


nepenthe

by lytriis



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrid Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), amnesiac dream??? sure, but it’s not really in depth, but puffy is not a hybrid, haha dream go brr, ill add additional tags later, no beta we die like schlatt, oh look nightmare is here too, there’s torture, this is a 3am concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 52,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28384716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lytriis/pseuds/lytriis
Summary: “What are you hiding from us, Dream?”His— what they assumed were— emerald eyes narrowed from behind his chipped off mask, almost a hint of disbelief in his gaze as he stared at George, “Not just us. From everyone in the SMP.”Dream released his previously combative posture, his eyes closing, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips, “Me? I’m protecting you from them.”---previously called "secrets and broken promises"*cries in not knowing how to write a description*if any of the cc's are uncomfortable with me writing fan fiction about them, i'll be more than happy to take it down
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 252
Kudos: 1643





	1. Men in White

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first fic on ao3 so hopefully it’s up to par haha- 🤠🤠
> 
> anyway this is a partial modern!au and will feature superhuman!dream (? is that a thing lmao) 
> 
> constructive criticism is welcomed! <3

_Everything hurt._

_He bit back a sob as his father was brutally slain before him, his bloody and mangled body falling on the floor with a quiet thump._

_There were people. Big, tall men that wore white lab coats and did stuff with coloured liquids. He knew his father was being bad, he knew that because of that, his father was killed. He didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to live._

_He watched as his mother was harshly shoved to her feet, casting a longing look at him that showed she was afraid- afraid for him, maybe a little for herself, too- and left with her captor._

_She came back a different person._

_He was scared of her, scared that she would snap when he pestered her too much, scared that she would slap him (again) when he only wanted to know if she was okay. She didn’t love him anymore. He knew that, despite his heart whispering that she still had little kindness just for him._

_He learned his mother died when she tried to burn the facility down with her newly established fire powers, like the Blazes._

_He remained silent, hugging his sister closer to him as he would cry at night. His sister was the only one left. He didn’t want to lose her._

_Maybe he jinxed himself._

_His sister was the next to go. He watched as she cried and kicked and flailed her little four-year-old arms as the men took her away. His wails for her sister were unheard._

_The next time he saw her, she was a stranger, too._

_She seemed smarter, quicker, more witty. He’d heard stories of Wither Skeletons in the Nether, and that’s what he assumed his sister had become._

_She was a full blown killer._

_He’d watch, too, as the men in the awfully bright white coats told her to handle bows, despite her age. She could shoot perfectly well, and he’d heard that the power came with the ability to move agilely. They were correct._

_He cried out for days when his sister was shot in front of him. She’d misjudged her aim and accidentally killed off the men’s supervisor._

_He knew he was next on the list. Maybe he jinxed himself again._

_•••_

_Dream. He’s been referred to that his entire life._

_It’s always ‘Dream’ this and ‘Dream’ that. The men were really creative with their names._

_He listened, as the men told him softly, ever so comfortingly, that as long as he could teleport 10 metres away from where he stood, he would be able to have some candy and take the rest of the day off. That.. that was a good deal, right?_

_So he nodded. The men left him alone as he closed his eyes, imagining how far he would jump. A familiar whoosh and the slight sway of his body later, he landed a little more than 10 metres from where he stood. He beamed when the men in the white coat stood up, clapping for him!_

_He quickly learned that as long as he was obedient, he would be treated nicely._

_•••_

_A hand carded itself through Dream’s tousled blonde locks. He locked eyes with the man before him, looking ever so small compared to the person kneeling before him._

_“You’re a good boy, Dream,” he whispered, and Dream grinned a little. The man sighed, “Unfortunately, they aren’t tolerating our behaviour towards you. They’re gonna up their game, Dream.” The blonde frowned, and with his peripheral vision he finally noticed the sharp glint behind the man._

_Dream eyed the needle, panic written all over his face. The man looked unwilling, but if he were to really care for Dream, he wouldn’t have done anything to him at all. “I’m so sorry, buddy.”_

_The needle sank into his side. He fell unconscious before his body was within the man’s arms._

_•••_

_“Dream, we need you to perform the process again.”_

_Dream looked up, glaring through his golden bangs. He scoffed, “Why so? Haven’t you all had enough experimenting already?”_

_The men in the white lab coats looked annoyed at his behaviour, “We would like to observe the process on tape. If you will, Number 4.”_

_His breathing hitched at the codename. They’d only ever used his godforsaken number under certain circumstances, none of which ended well for Dream. He bit his lip, straightening himself, a sign for the men to proceed with their experiment._

_His gaze locked with the machine before him. It slowly whirred to life, eliciting sounds that sound fairly similar to metal against metal. A few seconds later, a knife emerged from the previously empty slot and shot towards his direction._

_With a wave of his arm, the weapon dropped the floor with a clang. Another blade came his direction, and a flick of his wrist; floor. They repeated the process a few times over, telling him to teleport when necessary._

_He was beyond exhausted. He was tired. But he couldn’t stop, for he knew he would die either from the weapon-shooting-machine or by the hands of the men. Neither sounded good._

_So he obliged, like the obedient little boy he was for the past 9 years._

_•••_

_He ran as fast as his legs could carry him._

_He didn’t know had far he’d run. He’d only know that the further away from them, the safer he’d be._

_He smiled softly to himself as he tugged on the white porcelain mask hung limply around the satchel he wore across his shoulder._

_He’d start a new life._


	2. It’s so Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys what?? i wake up to find.. this??? the comments especially i-  
> i mean, all i could say is that thank you for the support (??) and i’ll try my best to provide better quality chapters in the future lmao
> 
> anyway dream’s on his own now :D

“What?” 

He eyed his friends- _are they even his friends anymore?-_ as they stood in front of him, armour discarded, their arms crossed in front of them, “We’re done. This— this war, it’s taken a toll on us,” Sapnap bit his lip as to not scowl, “we’re done fighting. We’re done being your chess pieces.” 

Dream’s fingers curled inward involuntarily, and he took a deep breath, “Look, guys. I know you’re all tired. But if we stop fighting against them, they’ll think we’re- we’re weak.” He pressed his lips into a thin line at the last stutter- his excuse was probably not the best but it was worth a shot. 

George scoffed, tilting his head to a side as his previously propped up goggles fell onto the bridge of his nose, “Weak? We’ve always been weak,” he pushed the goggles back onto his head again, his gaze not leaving Dream’s notorious mask, “it’s just the fact that we’d fight alongside you under any circumstances. Because we’re your friends.” He stopped, noticing how Dream’s lips parted and closed, “But we’re wrong. All we feel right now is that we’re being used like— like impractical toys that are thrown around.” 

“George, you don’t understand—“ 

“What don’t we understand, Dream?” Bad whispered, interrupting the masked man’s plead, “Make us understand. We’re— we’re your friends. I thought we said we’d keep no secret from each other.” 

Dream felt the fire burning inside him grow smaller when Bad uttered the last sentence. He sighed, running a hand through his blond locks, “It’s not something I can tell you. I can’t— I’m sorry. But when the time comes, I’ll tell you guys. This war, it’s for the well-being of everyone in the SMP. That’s the most I could say,” his arm dropped to his side, “I just need you guys to believe me.” 

The three seemed to talk with their eyes, and after a few moments’ silence, Bad spoke up once again, “Dream, right now? We have no reason to fight.” 

That burning fire of passion seemed to flicker, its scarlet flames licking his insides as if it wants someone to tend to it. It needs someone to tend to it. Dream swallowed as the words repeatedly haunt his mind;

_They’re leaving._

George flicked a piece of pebble from the ground, effectively pulling Dream back to reality, “We’ve made our decision,” he glanced at Bad and Sapnap, who nodded, “we’re leaving, first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll surrender to L’Manberg.” 

The flame completely died down. The minuscule flare of hope that he’d waited for went out with the fire. His insides grew cold, for the first time since running away from the facility, “You’re leaving me?” Dream noted that it came out more of a statement than a question. 

Sapnap shrugged his shoulders, a nonchalant look on his face, “And I reiterate, in my manner, ‘We’re done with your shit’.” He turned, bounding off after Bad. 

Dream’s posture remained stiff, his face an expression of shock and disbelief— not like anyone could see behind his mask. His shoulders visibly sagged, and released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

He wandered off, lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t noticed his legs were carrying him until he stopped in front of a river. 

Despite the sloshing and churning of the running waters, he could still see his reflection perfectly. Admittedly, his mask did look a little creepy in battle. He would’ve been a tad bit appalled too, if his opponent was nothing more than a faultily drawn smiley face that’d possibly haunt your dreams. 

Reaching up, albeit hesitantly, his fingers traced the worn out yet sturdy ribbon that held his disguise together. His thumb soon grazed the metal lock that clipped both sides of the ribbon together, unlatching it with a swift move of his nimble fingers. 

The mask fell on the floor beside him, immaculate white porcelain as perfect as ever. His face— he hadn’t seen in years, possibly a decade. He was scared of what he’d looked like after the innumerable times he’d been experimented on— was it only right to call him a monster? 

His eyes drifted to himself in the water. 

Maybe he’d made the right choice in hiding his face, as surely the little five-year-old he was a little over ten years ago disappeared. His most prominent features weren’t even recognisable— he remembered his mother used to trail her fingers over his eyelids, softly whispering how his eyes were the prettiest green she’d ever seen. His sister would point and make grabby hands too, whenever he played peekaboo with her. 

He felt something wet go down his cheek as he moved to wipe it away. _Tears._ He hadn’t cried since he ran away from the facility. 

Eyeing his reflection in the river again, he could vaguely make out his traits; the slitted left eyebrow, the golden dapples of his freckles— his eyes, he breathed, as he sat down near the bank to have a closer look. 

He didn’t remember how they looked like. It was probably because of his unwillingness to part with his mask for only a few seconds, but as he glanced at himself in the water, it only reminded him he wasn’t fully human. 

He knew the men in those disgusting white coats had infused Endermen attributes to him. While he didn’t know where his trajectory manipulation came from, he was, to be frank, glad he had the ability to teleport. 

Dream stared at the heterochromatic eyes again, his gaze lingering on the purple iris on his left. He hated them. The men in white. 

His friends left because of them. Because he knew what they’d do. 

It’s so cold, without the warmth of his friends’ support. 

It’s so cold, with knowing that despite his pleads and reasoning, his friends would leave him anyway. 

It’s so cold, with his family dead. 

His eyes glared back at him from the reflection, and Dream knew what he had to do. 

•••

George had kind of anticipated what their arrival at L’Manberg would look like as soon as they stepped into their borders. 

All heads snapped to them instantly, and he realised that Fundy and Quackity had their swords out, pointed at their throats. That really didn’t look as intimidating for their considerable height. 

He glanced at the crowd, noting how everyone seemed to look around for Dream before they gave up, their eyes landing on Sapnap instead, “What brings you here?” 

Sapnap held his hands up in a placating manner, “We’re not here to fight. We’d like to see Wilbur.” 

As if on cue, the man walked forward (albeit dramatically) from the gathering crowd, his eyes narrowing as if unsure, “This is a nice surprise. It’s not likely of L’Manberg to have enemies dropping their weapons at our doors everyday, y’know?” 

Sapnap bared his teeth in a forced smile to stop himself from punching the president, “We’re here to surrender.” 

Wilbur seemed surprised at first, then quickly hid his astonishment with a grin, “Of course. And Dream is..?” 

Bad spoke up from Sapnap’s right, “We’re surrendering on our own accord. Dream has nothing to do with this.” 

Wilbur straightened himself, and George couldn’t help but notice the surprise, once again, written on his face, “That’s.. unexpected. The Dream Team surrendering— without Dream?” 

George shrugged his shoulders, “Well, yeah. We’re sick of fighting his purposeless battles,” he took a deep breath, “we want in, if it means stopping war from breaking out again.” 

Wilbur stopped in his tracks, as if contemplating whether this was a good decision or not. His eyes shifted over to each and every one of them, before Quackity and Fundy dropped their weapons, and Wilbur’s serious expression broke out into a grin, “Welcome to L’Manberg.”


	3. New Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOAH 3 CHAPTERS ALREADY?!?1!!1
> 
> i must be high, idk. but i do know that i have unfinished homework soo-  
> ann knee way, i know the story is slowly progressing but it's necessary for the plot to be dramatic :) chapter 4 will either be posted later today (if im actually productive) or tomorrow. thanks for being supportive guys <3
> 
> enjoy chapter 3, this mess of a chapter with three different scenarios

_Why don’t you just tell them?_

“Wouldn’t that be a great idea,” he muttered to himself, ignoring the worried glances Punz and Eret were giving him. The latter of the aforementioned sighed, resting their head on their propped up hand, “Dream, you’ve been here since noon and you’re not telling us what happened.” 

Punz dropped down onto the floor besides the king, “Dream, buddy, where’s George? And Sapnap?” he glanced at the green clad man, noticing how he had stiffened when he’d mention the names, “.. And Bad?”

There was a crash and both people jumped, swiftly turning their heads to the source of the noise. The armour placed on display near the entrance had toppled over. Eret’s eyes narrowed as they got up, walking over to the tangled mess that was the armour and slowly repositioning it back in place. 

It was always like this. Whenever Dream got irritated or annoyed, anything related to metal within a 10 mile radius would start crashing or toppling over, and both Eret and Punz knew that their friend had some sort of connection with the element. They’d never pressed though, wary of what their friend had the ability to do. 

“They, uh,” Dream murmured, looking up from where he was initially downcast, his hand on the back of his neck, “they left. Surrendered to Wilbur. Didn’t want to engage in more wars.”

Punz glanced at Eret, who mirrored his expression. “To be really honest, Dream,” Eret started, catching the masked man’s attention, “don’t take this the wrong way. We’ll always be on your side, unless there’s a reason not to.” Eret took a deep breath, “If you don’t mind the both of us asking, was the entire war just for reigning control over L’Manberg?” They relaxed back onto their throne, “Or is there another reason you’re so vehement about it?”

Dream glanced at them, a quiet sigh escaping his lips, “There is a reason. I haven’t--” he paused, the hand on his neck now running through his hair, a sign that he was either frustrated or nervous, “I didn’t tell anyone, partly because it’ll all end in tragedy. For everyone.”

Punz raised his eyebrows, his platinum blonde hair falling onto his eyes as he stood, “We’re not gonna pry, but Dream,” he looked up, his gaze locked with Punz’s, though no one could’ve seen it behind his mask, “Eret and I know you’re stressed. We can’t have that.” He smiled, gesturing to the stairs, “It’d make us a whole lot better if you rested. If you wanna talk about your reason for war, we’ll be more than happy to listen.”

Dream gave a small smile, barely hidden behind the porcelain, but nonetheless visible, “Thank you. I mean it.”

He started for the stairs, pausing mid-stride up the concrete steps, “I’ll tell you both. First thing in the morning.”

\---

They were getting closer to their destination. 

He swore under his breath, remembering how every single time they set foot on this piece of land, they would be warned to turn and leave. And coincidentally, every single time the people were at war. 

He’d had enough of this bullshit. 

Sure, his men aren’t the physically combative type, but they could fight decently. That wasn’t the reason why he left the land alone though, no. He just didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, having all his men injured before even starting their investigation. 

It wasn’t his fault either. Every single man they had gone and tested on resulted in success. He was proud of that, proud that his unit was the only section that succeeded in shaping a man-made killer. They needed the perfect vassal. The one thing he couldn’t grasp a hold of though, was that each time they thought they had succeeded in creating something better than the last;

_The creation would get erratic._

He didn't understand how it was remotely possible, with no direct or indirect flaws leading to their creation’s faultiness. He hated it, hated that their creations get their hopes up, only to be sent over the brink. It was nearly as bad as having it killed off.

He’d heard through the grapevine, that some people in his unit speculated that it was the loss of the boy that caused their next couple of hundreds of perfect killers to go haywire. He had scoffed at the idea, brushing it off as there was no way that a single runaway preteen could do anything to disrupt their path to success. 

Which is why he reckoned this piece of land had something to do with it instead. 

In all his years of infusing creatures with the human body, he of course, found it more than entertaining to experiment new hybrids they create. It wasn’t for fun, they had a mission to create the immaculate killer with creature traits, like the notorious Endermen, or the Ghasts. This land that he was currently walking on however, had potentially undiscovered possibilities that could lead to the enhancement of their creations. He grinned at the thought.

“Andy, border straight ahead,” his colleague snapped him out of his thoughts, and he glanced forward. Sure enough, the sign that sat mockingly by the border came into view. He nodded to his colleague, “Noted,”

His group slowly approached the border, and as they reached the sign, Andy could faintly make out the outline of a city that was silhouetted against the setting sun, standing proud and tall before them. He smirked, making a pulling gesture with his fingers to signal his colleagues to come over, “Start by collecting the dirt particles here. I want the precise geological condition this city stands on,” he waved his left arm, “Anderson, Smith, try to ask whether the people here are at war,” he rolled his eyes as he quietly added an unheard ‘again’. 

Andy smiled to himself-- he’d have the city wrapped around his fingers in no time. 

\---

Guard duty wasn’t that bad, to be honest. 

Bad hummed to himself as he secured his enchanted diamond helmet once again. There really wasn’t much to do, except looking out for intruders or people that might be looking suspicious. He eyed Karl, who was on duty with him along with Sapnap. 

Three unfamiliar faces made their way towards the walls of L’Manberg, and Bad raised an eyebrow as his hand went to hover on his diamond sword hanging onto his belt. 

Two men and a woman appeared behind the undergrowth, the shorter man bearing what seemed to be a wound in his abdomen while the taller man with darker skin supported him. The woman, gaining ahead of them rushed to Karl, not before glancing at Bad skeptically, “Is there a place where we could stay? Please, my brother is hurt, and we are out of supplies.”

Karl held her firmly, “Look, miss. There isn’t any place to stay for another hundred miles,” he gestured to Sapnap, “my friend here will help escort your brother to our medics. You and your uh,” he tilted his head at the taller man, “I’m her friend,” Karl nodded slowly, “friend, yes, can follow me where you’ll meet the president. Hopefully he can lend you guys a place to stay for a few days.”

The woman nodded gratefully, “Thank you. I’m Julia Davis, by the way. My brother here is Zack Davis and my friend here is Marcus Williams.” Karl nodded as Bad helped Sapnap in aiding the injured boy onto one of their horses, “I’m Karl. That guy with the white headband is Sapnap, and the guy who looks creepy as heck is Halo, but everyone calls him Bad.”

Bad feigned hurt when Karl mentioned his description, causing the aforementioned man to laugh. 

The woman seemed interested in him though, “Say, Halo-- sorry, Bad,” she started, as the six people advanced towards the city’s centre, “I’ve never seen anyone like you. Are you a hybrid?” Bad laughed, shaking his head, “Nope, I’m born this way. I may look scary but my friend can prove I’m nothing more than a timid muffinhead.” Sapnap chuckled at that.

He swore he saw the taller man’s lips move, as if muttering something under his breath.

Bad shrugged it off, he was probably just being paranoid. 

Soon, they arrived at their destination. They parted ways as Sapnap and the injured Zack went to find either Niki or Fundy, and Bad followed Karl as the both of them escorted the two strangers to meet Wilbur.

“-- not? I’m perfectly capable of handling any situation. C’mon, Will,” Bad heard the distinctly accented voice that could only belong to Tommy Innit, “ask Tubbo! He’ll give you an answer--”

“No is my answer and that’s final, Tommy.” Wilbur interrupted him, right as the group approached the door and Karl twisted the knob, revealing a slightly ruffled Tommy and an unfazed Wilbur. The president raised an eyebrow, muttering something to the blonde and Tommy exited the room, before extending a hand forward to welcome the two strangers, “Hello, welcome to L’Manberg,” he smiled and Julia shook his hand, “how may I be of assistance?”

Julia took the sign as to sit down and Marcus followed suit, “We were passing by initially, but my brother-- he’s with one of your guards, Sapnap?-- got hurt. We were hoping if we could stay here for a few days? Just until Zack is good enough to have us continue our journey.”

Bad saw Karl and Wilbur exchange a few words, before the head guard nodded, a smile on his face, “Welcome to your temporary abode!” Julia sighed in relief, a grin on her face, “Thank you so much. We’ll find a way to repay your kind hospitality.”

Wilbur shook his head, “There’s no need for that. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here,”

Julia and Marcus got up, thanking the president, before Karl escorted them outside, probably leading them to their temporary shelter. Just as Bad was about to excuse himself, Wilbur stopped him, “Bad,”

The half demon tilted his head, a little out of curiosity, “Yes, Wilbur?”

He sighed, taking off his beanie and running a hand through his bangs, sweeping them tidily to a side before putting his signature hat back on, “Keep an eye out for them, you know? I don’t trust them, something just feels,” he made a little move with his hand, “off. I can’t explain the feeling, maybe I’m wrong. But please, do report to me if anything happens.”

Bad hesitated, tugging on the hem of his checkered scarf, “Well, the woman, Julia, she was asking questions about me. Maybe I’m being anxious, but she said she’d never seen anyone like me out there, and they specifically asked if I was a hybrid,” his glowing orbs locked with Wilbur’s brown ones, “I trust that something’s bound to be strange with them, but I can’t seem to place a finger on it.” 

Wilbur nodded, sighing, “Alright. I’ll keep a look out too,” he smiled, “in the meantime, you should probably head to bed.”

Bad nodded, “Goodnight, Wilbur."


	4. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I OUTDID YALL 
> 
> honestly i don’t even know what to expect from myself anymore smh
> 
> expect tea this chapter

Technoblade always considered himself to be a negotiator. 

He could do almost anything anybody asks him to do, whether it be murder or just plainly getting something for them, as long as it could benefit him in some way. He wasn’t scared— protective of his family, maybe— but other than that, he feared nothing. 

So, when Dream arrived at his doorstep, looking as if he were hiding something from the world (and frankly a little shaken up) he let him in. 

He hadn’t noticed his rival (or friend?) was hurt when he entered the threshold initially. Only when the green clad man had gingerly taken out a roll of bandages did Techo realise he had an awful gash running from the inside of his wrist to his elbow. 

“Rough day?” He murmured, eyeing the few drops of crimson that had pooled on the wooden floorboard. Dream tilted his head upwards, suppressing a grin, “I guess you could say that.” 

He got up, stuffing the bandages into the little satchel he was carrying with him, before turning to Techno, his formerly lighthearted vibe disappearing as he did, “They’re coming.” Techno scoffed, deciding to arrange his items in one of his numerous chests, “You’ve gotta be more specific if you want me to understand something.” 

He heard a quiet clatter. Instinctively, his eyes went to the floorboard, only to realise that Dream’s signature mask was present on the ground. Biting his lip, he looked up, revealing— for the first time in ever— the man’s face. 

Techno gave a cursory scan of the previously masked man in front of him. He grinned, closing the chest with a click, “To what do I owe this honour? Dream, the mysterious disguised man, showing his face to me?” 

Dream scowled, “Don’t act like you’re oblivious. I’ve seen your reaction.” 

Techno, admittedly, was a little surprised at the man’s heterochromatic eyes. It wasn’t everyday you see someone with different coloured irises— though it wasn’t everyday you get to see Dream’s face either, “So,” he got up from his kneeling position by the chest, dusting his hands, “what happened?” 

“The men, they’re coming. Like they do every year.” Dream murmured, his eyes glued to the window in Techno’s abode, as if he was anticipating someone or something to attack them all of a sudden. Techno frowned, “Every year? How come I’ve never heard of them?” 

Dream pressed his lips into a thin line, “We’re at war, every time they come.” 

Realisation dawned on the blood god. With a grunt, he moved on to the next chest, “There’s a reason you came. Are you gonna tell me or do you want me to throw you out of my house?” 

Dream chuckled despite the weighing silence, and Techno was a little relieved that the man had heard the sarcasm through his monotonous voice, “My friends, they..” he casted a sideways glance to the man by the window, noting how his vision seemed clouded, “they’re not fighting. They’ve surrendered to L’Manberg. They want to stop war from happening,” 

Techno didn’t miss the longing tone in Dream’s voice. He could practically tell, from how his posture was less straight and how his tone spoke volumes. He missed his friends. Techno sighed, “Well, what do you want me to do? Kidnap them?” 

Dream’s head snapped away from the window, a frown on his face, “What? No, I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself,” he paused, his gaze downcast as he searched for the correct vocabulary, “They aren’t aware what’s happening. They, as in all the people in the SMP.” 

Techno stopped, holding an Ender Pearl midair as the words fully sank in, “What? Why didn’t you tell them? That is such a stupid move, coming from someone like you.” Techno placed the pearl down again, closing the chest, “You’ve just made yourself an enemy of the people.” 

“Haven’t I always been?” Dream laughed, bitterness lacing his voice, “It’s always ‘Dream just wants war’ and ‘Dream’s just being way too aggressive for no reason’. You can’t expect them to know the reason behind all my doing, Techno.” He pulled himself away from the glass panel, moving to sit on the chair a little bit away from where he was originally. 

Technoblade took a deep breath, “Well, what I’m getting now is that the SMP doesn’t know of the ‘men’, as you call it, and you need me for?” Dream glanced at him, his newly wrapped wound already seeping with blood, “I need your help fighting those people. I don’t know how strong they’ve become since I last saw them, but I’m not taking risks,” he looked straight at Techno, his expression serious. “they’re here. At the borders of L’Manberg. I’m not even ruling out the possibility that they might have somehow snuck into the capital already.” 

Techno shook his head, “Wilbur can’t be that foolish. He wouldn’t just let random people run their city— he fought, ironically, tooth and claw for the land. You of all people should know this.” Dream nodded slowly, “But, he would gladly welcome them to his beloved L’Manberg out of pure hospitality. Wouldn’t you agree, Techno?” 

The half Piglin snorted, “You can’t blame him for that. Both of them— Tommy and Wilbur— are soft hearted idiots,” he looked at Dream, who had his eyes narrowed as he spoke, “but they would notice if something was wrong.” 

Dream contemplated the thought for a second, before he released the breath he was holding, “I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. It's just—“ Techno realised the man was slightly trembling, his eyes filled with something that even appalled him— fear. He didn’t know that was in Dream’s vocabulary. “I don’t want history to repeat itself. It’s- It’s horrible, there.” 

He hurriedly recomposed himself, picking up the mask that he had dropped on the floor earlier, “Just promise you’d be able to come to my aid when the time comes,” Dream whispered, latching on the mask with a soft click, “I can’t— I don’t want to risk anyone’s lives on the line.” 

Techno nodded, and he noticed how the green clad man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my brothers, either.” 

Dream gave a small smile, standing up as he headed for the door. 

“One more thing, Dream,” Techno stopped the man in his tracks, his head turning to the blood god. Techno wasn’t a normally emotional person, but he reckoned the man sounded distressed at the moment, “What happened, back there? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 

Techno could practically see the bubbling guilt radiating from the man, and before he parted his lips to say that it was fine if Dream didn’t want to say, the other man beat him to it, “They experiment with people. And trust me,” despite his covered up face now, Techno could feel the man staring at him with such intensity that it made him wonder what he’d been through, “it’s not a pleasant experience.” 

———

“What did you find?” Andy instructed, typing away on his laptop as he waited for the three people to report. 

“The president seemed oblivious to our entry. He didn’t even suspect a single thing, and he even offered the best medication for Zack,” Andy recognised the voice belonging to Julia, “he also gave us a considerably comfortable abode.” 

Andy nodded, partially to himself, “That’s good. They don’t know our intentions. Now, how is it like inside?”

Marcus was the person speaking this time, “It looked like what a modern city would be, save for the people there,” he laughed, “there was this guard that looked like a demon! Black skin, glowing eyes, and wears a dark grey hoodie with red lining. People call him Bad, but his real name is Halo.” Andy seemed to perk up at this, “Interesting. Very interesting. Seems like we have a potential candidate already.” 

Zack spoke up next, his presumably ‘younger’ attire gone, “One of the medics that tended to me, Fundy, god he’s weird.” Andy looked up from typing in their reports, raising an eyebrow, “How so?” 

“Well, for one,” Zack muttered, “he’s a fox.” 

Andy grinned, “Continue, Zachary.” 

Zack scowled at the use of his full name, “A fox hybrid, to be exact. He has the traits of a fox— a snout, ears, tail, and claws. But other than that, he has human proportions and possibly smarter than the average human being, y’know, half fox and such. He’s incredibly nimble too. Don’t know if he goes feral though.” 

Andy nodded absentmindedly, elaborating on the distinct traits of this ‘Fundy’ Zack had explained, “That’s brilliant, guys. What about the government?” 

Julia shook her head, “The president, Wilbur, seems smart at first glance, but if he’s gullible enough to let three random travellers enter their city, I don’t think it would be a problem for us to crash them. After all, their population compared to the people we’ve brought here is lesser than we expected.”

Andy closed his laptop with a thud, turning around the face the three formerly undercover scientists, “Brilliant job, lads,” he grinned, “can’t wait to see our potential creations.”


	5. Reminiscing.. or not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> iM BACK  
> ill try to write more often as ill be moving soon so id have to pack and shit yk
> 
> prepare for an emotional rollercoaster ride bc dream's childhood trauma is the motivation of my writing

_“Dream, look at me, please.”_

_The seven year old held in stifling sobs and occasional hiccups as the woman carefully tended to his wound, the considerably deep scratch ceasing to bleed. The woman smiled as he locked his gaze with her, gingerly wiping the blood in a swift emotion as to not linger on the wound longer._

_His crying had subsided by the time his shoulder wound was patched up, yet he winced when he shifted his body, catching the woman’s attention. “Where does it hurt?” She cooed, looking at the child. Dream’s breathing hitched as he moved his arm to point at his ankle, and the woman furrowed her eyebrows, “That’s got to be sprained, buddy.”_

_He knew that. Of course he knew that, he didn’t know how his little seven year old brain could’ve possibly comprehend his injuries weren’t light ones though._

_The woman got to work again, this time prepping a bowl of hot water. Dream watched warily as she proceeded to set raw ginger in the bowl, and a few moments later she took it out, pressing the burning ginger up against his ankle without warning. Dream hissed in surprise, the impact of the smouldering object colliding with bare skin shocking his veins. He tried to pull away, but the woman kept a firm grip on him._

_After twenty seconds of agony, she let go._

_Dream’s eyes scanned his ankle, an angry red forming on his skin. He glanced upwards to see the woman re-soaking the ginger in the hot water, swallowing nervously. She only smiled, “It helps with the ankle. You’ll see.”_

_Another round. This time however, when the ginger hit skin, he didn’t feel as much pain as he did before. His eyes travelled up to the woman’s face, searching for an answer. She laughed, removing the ginger, “It’s Chinese medication. It temporarily shocks the nerves. That way when I twist the other way, it won’t hurt as much.” Dream nodded dazedly._

_She got the job done quicker than he’d expected. Five minutes later, he experimentally flexed his ankle, satisfied that he could walk properly again. The woman was busy packing her medical supplies, smiling up at Dream as he took a few steps forward, a grin appearing on his face._

_She stood up, “You should be able resume your missions tomorrow.” She glanced at Dream, a look of unwillingness on his face. She sighed, “What’s the matter, buddy?”_

_“I don’t want to go back,” he whispered, his voice cracking at the end, “they make me— they make me kill people.” He sounded so small, “I don’t want to do that.”_

_Her expression softened, “I don’t think that’s an option, bud,” she pressed her lips into a line, “but if it helps you, I can ask if your missions can be postponed. How about training? How does that sound?”_

Training’s just as bad as killing people, _Dream thought, shoving away the memory of the men testing his ability to teleport right as he hit the ground jumping from a cliff, but he agreed anyway._

_“Thank you,” he murmured, and the woman smiled, “Anytime, lil man.”_

_As the woman turned to leave, he caught sight of her name on the badge hung on her left chest;_

_Julia Davis_

———

_“Hey, now,” the young brunette soothed, holding a tight grip on Dream as he stood rigidly still, shock mixed with fear clouding his eyes. His hand went back to the tub of water set aside, soaking the bloody towel back in the liquid before taking it out again, twisting the fabric to get rid of excess water. “You’re fine. You’re back at the facility. There’s no one to fight.” the man murmured in a hushed tone, “That was brilliant. I bet the enemy were surprised we sent a child.”_

_The young man started with the blonde’s hair first, dribbling water over the mop of dirtied locks and let that sink in, picking up another towel as he gently dried off the hair. “Did I do something wrong?” The nine year old whispered out of the blue, and the man shook his head, “No, buddy. You’ve done everything like we asked you to.”_

_“Then why do I feel.. weird?” He glanced at the man, who was now wiping off the smeared blood on his cheeks, “Guilty, I mean. I feel guilty.”_

_The brunette sighed, “It’s normal to feel like that.” He murmured, ditching the towel back into the tub of water as he cleaned the boy’s temples and forehead, “You_ did _just murder fifty-ish people. That was an amazing job, by the way.” He smiled up at the child, who seemed to visibly relax._

_“Zack,” Dream mumbled, and the man hummed in response, “Hmm?”_

_“Have you ever killed someone?”_

_Zack looked up from where he was busy wiping off the grime and dirt on Dream’s arms, “No. That’s not my field.”_

_Dream nodded, and the conversation fell silent for a few moments, before the blonde spoke again, “I like the feeling of killing. Watching their body drop dead is satisfying.” Zack grinned, nodding along, “That’s great to hear, buddy. Keep that up and you’ll be better in no time.”_

_“Zack,” the nine year old murmured again, tugging at the hem of the young man’s coat. The brunette stood up, arching his back and cracking his knuckles as he did so, “What’s up?”_

_“Am I good enough?” The question caught Zack off guard, as he glanced down at the boy, his emerald- amethyst eyes glassy. Zack ruffled his hair, a smile on his face, “You’re perfect, buddy. Why’d you say that?” Dream rubbed his eyes, mentally noting how Zack had thoroughly cleaned him up, “The men— the men that performed experiments on me?” Zack prompted the nine year old to continue, “They said I could be better. They said they weren’t satisfied with me.”_

_Zack bent down, combing his hand through Dream’s messy locks, “Well, fuck their opinions,” he grinned at Dream, “I think you’re the best.”_

_The dirty blonde smiled, and Zack sighed softly, “Don’t ever let them get to you. They’re just mad that they can’t invent something better to enhance your abilities,” he straightened himself, picking up the used necessities on the floor, “Come on. The supervisor would be mad if you aren’t present for the lecture.”_

_Dream nodded, subconsciously wrapping his hand around Zack’s wrist as he practically dragged the man outside with him._

_———_

_“No, wait, please—!” he was a sobbing mess, but the pain overrode his senses. He suppressed another gasp, the all too familiar needle glinting under the dim lighting of the experiment lab. The tall man gripped his arm, despite Dream kicking and shouting as he found the vein in his wrist, swiftly injecting the liquid into his system._

_“Listen to me— Dream!” the man hissed as the preteen tried to punch his face, narrowly dodging the hit, “it’s for your well-being! Your abilities— they make you unstable. We’re just minimising the chance of you losing control,”_

_“It hurts,” he whined (whimpered?), “make it stop. Make it stop—” his cries became muffled as the man pulled Dream closer to his body, engulfing him in a hug, “I’m sorry, bud. But everything we do, it’s for the best.”_

_Dream’s crying gradually lulled to a few hiccups, the dirty blonde furiously wiping away his tears as the man held him in his arms, “You know it’s necessary for us to do so, Dream,” he whispered, running his fingers through Dream’s mussed up hair. “None of you actually care,” the boy’s statement pierced through the man’s heart like an arrow, “you just want me to be your weapon, don’t you?”_

_The man shifted uncomfortably, his hand which was previously entangled in Dream’s tousled hair dropped down to fully embrace the boy, “That’s the facility’s objective,” he admitted, sighing, “they train you to be the best, no?”_

_“Am I not already the best?” Dream’s voice cracked at the end, and the man ran his hand repeatedly along his back, trying his best to calm the emotionally disturbed teen, “Not in their eyes, you’re not. But to me, and I’m sure— a few others, too— you’re already more than enough,” his voice dropped down into a quiet hush, “don’t go too hard on yourself, Dream. Your outstanding ability to control your powers at a young age already proves you better than a majority of the people.”_

_There was a moment of silence. Dream could hear the man humming a soft tune under his breath as the boy stared into space, trying to fathom everything the man had just told him, “You think I’m already an excelling assassin?” he mumbled, and the man realised he was beginning to nod off due to the aftereffects of the serum. The man chuckled, “Of course. Did you see how incredible you were today? Dispatched a hundred of those guys,” Dream smiled a little despite his eyes already closing._

_“Do you think I’ll meet someone like me, someday?” the blonde’s voice was now slurred, and the man was quite surprised he could still understand the string of words. The man didn’t know, honestly, as Dream was in fact the only child in the entire facility. From what he’d heard, most of the children were either killed off or died from an accident during experimenting. Dream obviously didn’t know, and by the time the man came up with an answer, the boy was already asleep in his arms._

_“Marcus,” someone murmured from the speakers placed in the room, and he turned to the one-way glass that was now reverted to a normal panel, “Ma’am. I was just going to send Dream back to his room.” She looked suspicious and wary of him, but she tilted her head, signalling for him to leave, “better not have me catch you showing kindness to the boy next time, Williams.”_

_Marcus slightly flinched when she’d said that, but shook his head, “There won’t be a next time, ma’am.”_

_He turned and left with the boy in his arms._


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally the comments in the last chapter are so heartwarming yall, i can't resist the urge to post another chapter  
> also you're welcome for the upcoming cliffhanger(?) love y'all

Sapnap always knows if something feels wrong.

It was like a gift, blessed by God himself. Whenever a chill goes down his spine or the hairs of the back of his neck stand up right, something is bound to go downhill. It worked perfectly each time, especially during Manhunts— that’s why he was always so confident that he wouldn’t die when he was blindly rushing his decisions. George said it was a curse because it gave Sapnap a false sense of security judging how he literally died every time he did so. 

The first time he doubted his ability however, was when their fight broke out. He was fairly positive that Dream wanted to cause war—for no reason at all. He’d realized his friend was just bored and had absolutely nothing to do with his spare time, and that’s why Sapnap assumed Dream’s sole purpose of fighting for L’Manberg was quite blatantly due to his unlimited spare time. Chills went down his spine then, but he’d brushed it off, excusing how it was just the autumn wind teasing him. 

He still remembered the feeling, how unsettling everything felt the moment he and his friends turned their backs on Dream. But Dream was in the wrong, and they were in the right. 

_..right?_

Sapnap shook his head, shoveling the thought away as he concentrated on his problems at hand—the thing that made him question Wilbur’s sanity. 

He was adamant he wasn’t the only one. Bad had reacted poorly to his statement when he’d asked how he felt about the three strangers’ presence. It deeply unnerved him, how Wilbur could just welcome three mysterious foreigners into the safety of L’Manberg’s walls. Sapnap didn’t know what exactly gave him that idea, though it probably had to do with how _the hairs on his arm stood on end and how everything felt on edge._ Kinda sounds like bullshit if you ask him but his instincts were never wrong (save for the argument between Dream and them).

Hell, even that Zack kid, who looked suspiciously older than the age of 18— the guy looked at least 29. Fundy had dismissed his hypothesis, saying how he should be concentrating on how to treat the kid’s wound instead of conspiring against the poor injured boy. Zack had grinned cheekily as soon as the fox had turned away, and Sapnap resisted the urge to slap the kid (man?) senseless. 

So, surprise was obviously an understatement when he ran into Punz in the armoury. Sapnap had even rubbed his eyes once, thinking it was all just a dream. When even pinching himself didn’t work, he relented, sighing at the blond man, “Punz, what’re you doing? You’re not supposed to be here— I mean, unless you have a death wish.”

Punz brushed his comment away, “Obviously I’m here to find you, dumbass.”

Sapnap huffed, “We’re at war. We’re supposed to attack you guys tomorrow first thing in the morning, and I don’t think I should be telling you that,” he backtracked almost immediately, earning a laugh from the other man, “Relax, dude. I’m not here to spy on whatever the fuck you guys are doing,”

Punz suddenly took out something from his inner pocket, downing it in one go, and completely disappeared from view. Sapnap frowned, “Potion of invisibility? Nice thinking, y’know you could’ve done that first before visiting ol’ me.” He could practically see the other man roll his eyes, “Right, well, I wasn’t paying attention. Anyway, getting to the main point,” Sapnap heard him rummage through his things, “has Wilbur sent any of you on patrol lately? You know, around the borders of L’Manberg?”

Sapnap frowned, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Punz sighed irritatedly, “I swear it’s not war related. In fact, it’s for the safety of everyone here—”

“Sapnap, there you are.” Marcus’ voice sounded from a distance, and Punz swiftly shut up, remaining still at where he stood. Sapnap turned around, face to face with Marcus’ defined face, “Hi, what’s up?” The man shrugged, his blue eyes scanning his surroundings, “Nothing much, just here to tell you we’re leaving.”

Sapnap felt his eyes go wide, “What? Oh— I mean,” _has it been a week already?_ , “that’s great news?”

Marcus nodded, smiling slightly, “Yeah, a shame, really.”

“Oh?” Sapnap noted how that sounded highly suspicious, “What’s a shame?”

Marcus gave him a curious look, “That.. we’re leaving? Anyway, Julia wanted to thank you for being such a big help during our stay. She made this for you— go on, take a bite,” Marcus offered, a delicious looking muffin wrapped delicately in its packaging, the aroma drifting around the armoury.

Sapnap hesitated for a second, but he took the proffered savoury anyway, awkwardly taking a nip of it. His eyes widened at the taste, hurriedly taking another bite, “Jeez, Marcus. This tastes better than Niki’s baking— of course, don’t tell her—but, wow.” he sighed, swallowing the muffin in his mouth, “A shame you’re leaving.”

“A shame, indeed.” Marcus replied with a nonchalant tone. 

“What—”

The man reached forward, a sword (where did that come from? Oh, we’re in the armoury—) in his hands as he swiped the blade, narrowly missing Sapnap’s torso, “What the fuck?”

His mind slowly became clouded, and with a start, he realised he’d been _drugged_. Sapnap stumbled, tripping on his legs as he backpedalled and he cursed as he dropped at the worst place possible— a corner. Marcus slowly approached him, and it uncomfortably reminded him of how it looked like a predator and a prey. It didn’t sit well with the fact that he was the prey. 

Just as he thought he would be decapitated in broad daylight, the man froze, falling unconscious before he hit the floor and Sapnap looked up, sighing in relief as Punz’s non-invisible figure stood over Marcus’ passed out body, breathing heavily, “You alright?” he muttered, his outstretched arm inviting as Sapnap took it, groaning as he stood up.

“That was embarrassing,” Sapnap hissed, eyeing a little scratch he had obtained when stepping away from the man, “worst fight of my life.”

Punz laughed, handing him a Potion of Healing, “And it will be forever imprinted in my memory.”

Sapnap took the bottle, thanking his friend and downing it in one gulp, “Right, Punz. What were you gonna say before we were oh so rudely interrupted?”

Punz’s laugh faded, replaced by a grim expression, “That’s why I’m here,” he tilted his head at Marcus’ unconscious form, “his colleagues and him. They’re dangerous. What state of mind was Wilbur in when he decided to let these assholes in? Is he insane?”

“Woah, Punz,” Sapnap stopped his friend, “how’d you know these guys were here?” Punz’s gaze softened, “Dream told us. He’d been attacked when he was scouting the border, and he knew that there must be something going on in L’Manberg.” he bit his lip, “He’s worried, Sap. Not only for you, or Bad, or George, but everyone in the SMP.”

“Why would that selfish bastard care?” Sapnap’s entire mood changed, growing defensive, “For all I know, this entire thing could be another plot of his to wage war on L’Manberg,” he huffed, disposing the bottle that was dangling in his hand, “I don’t mean to offend, Punz, but why are you still siding with him? Can’t you see what he’s doing?”

Punz shook his head, platinum blonde hair falling onto his eyes, “He told me his reason, and it was kind of stupid at first, but I understand what he had to do,” he pressed his lips into a line, “it’s not my position to tell anybody, and when the time comes, he’ll do so himself. But that doesn’t mean he’s justifying whatever he’s done though,” Punz looked at his friend, “I just need you guys to trust me on this one. I can’t reveal much, but please inform Wilbur of them.”

Sapnap bit his lip, carding a hand through his hair in frustration, “Alright, Punz. Better not let me down— I’m doing this for the sake of you, _not Dream.”_

Punz made no effort to retort, and nodded numbly, “Right. I’ll see you soon, dude.”

He turned and disappeared into the setting sun.

———

“Should’ve known!” Wilbur growled, exasperated, “Those three— god, how could I be so naive?”

Sapnap had told him yesterday evening, and currently they had the three of them held captive in prison, figuring out what to do with them. “It’s alright, Will. None of us knew,” Tommy tried comforting his brother, but the brunette seemed to ignore him, clouded by a haze of anger and frustration. 

“We’ll leave them be, at the moment. Bad said he’d drugged them, so they shouldn’t be awake for quite some time.” Tubbo offered timidly. Wilbur shook his head, “There’s too much to consider. Dream’s attacking soon, and we’re stuck in the middle of a crisis,” he groaned, dragging a hand along his face, “we’re fucked.”

“No, we’re not,” Quackity murmured from where he was sitting by the window, his eyes wide as he stared at the whole of L’Manberg, “Wilbur, Dream’s here with his men.”

Wilbur slammed the desk, seething, “Quackity, tell me— how the fuck is that good news?”

The aforementioned man shook his head vigorously, “No, no! Wilbur, they’re not attacking, in fact, they seem to be surrendering.”

The president’s eyes widened, standing up instantly, “Don’t let this be a sick joke,”

Together, the four of them made their way down to the entrance of their beloved city. Almost everyone had gathered around, and as Wilbur approached the crowd, he noticed how there weren’t any armour or weapons in sight. Quackity was right— they weren’t here to attack them. George had his diamond sword pointed directly at Dream’s throat, with the green clad man holding his arms up in a conciliatory manner, his chin tilted in the air. 

Wilbur scanned the men before him and did a mental count of everyone. His eyes gradually landed on someone he’d never thought he’d see again; Technoblade. The half Piglin’s eyes locked with Wilbur’s, and before anyone spoke, they broke eye contact. 

“What brings you here, gentlemen?” Wilbur murmured as he signalled George to stand down. Dream’s mask came to view, and Wilbur inwardly gasped at how broken and worn out it looked. The right side of the mask was partially chipped off, revealing an emerald eye and golden freckles. Dream casted a sideways glance at Techno, who shrugged, as if motioning for him to speak. 

Dream sighed, tugging at his hoodie, “Right, Wilbur, we need to talk.”


	7. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just to clarify— dream knows that three people of the facility snuck into l’manberg, but he doesn’t know their names 
> 
> i’m back w another chapter yall- 
> 
> tbh i’m not that satisfied with how this turned out but it’s better than all my previously scrapped bits 
> 
> shits about to get real

“Talk?” Wilbur whispered, disbelief etched onto his face, “Tell me, Dream. What do we need to talk about?”

He could see the hesitation, just by how stiff his posture was and how his eye was downcast, as if contemplating what to do next, “I’ll tell you all that, in private. They’re watching us, Wilbur. It’s not safe to just—just talk about this in open space,”

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, “What’s there to know? Who’s watching us?” he chuckled, despite the tense circumstance, “Dream, listen. I think your little fantasy going on inside your head has finally broken you,” Wilbur murmured, but loud enough for the previously silent crowd to snicker with him, “have you finally lost your mind?”

Dream remained silent, though the slight tilt of his head upwards was enough to prove to Wilbur that he wasn’t letting the insults get to him, “You think this is funny?”

They heard it— they all heard it. The same exact voice whenever something serious concerning the general public, the low, hushed tone laced with a hint of skepticism. That alone was enough to shut Wilbur up, his eyes not leaving Dream. “Wilbur, you think this is all a joke?” his exposed green eye narrowed, and Wilbur swore he saw something shift in there, “No. No, I think you’re being awfully serious.”

Dream stifled a laugh, “Wilbur, _you_ listen to _me._ When I say ‘we’re all in danger’, I _mean it._ ” his voice dropped to a snarl, something that was rarely seen in the calm and collected masked man, “You want me to say it? To expose what we know at the moment to the entire world? To risk everyone’s safety?” Dream took a step forward, his posture mocking, “Is that what you want, Mr President?”

“You know, everything would be a lot easier if you’d just tell everyone your intentions in the first place,” Sapnap interrupted the conversation, and all eyes turned to him where he was casually poised, his sword dangling from the side of his hip, “maybe it’d give us a valid reason why we don’t just kill you right here, right now.”

Dream didn’t know what to say. It was different, coming from Sapnap’s lips, as practically everyone in L’Manberg now turned to him as the centre of attention, making him uncomfortably shift, his posture now stiff.

“It’s really not that hard to just be honest,” George pressed, “what are you hiding from us, Dream?”

His emerald eye narrowed from behind his chipped off mask, almost a hint of disbelief as he stared at George— it gave him the impression that his friend doubted him. Before his lips even parted, the goggled man spoke again, “Not just us. The entire SMP.” He could sense Techno’s gaze on him, as he closed his eyes, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he released his previously combative stance, “Me?” _you’re pushing me too far—_ , “I’m protecting you all from them.”

“Who’s them?” he heard Bad whisper from the crowd, and his mind blanked, the nightmares he had recently gotten rid of now coming back at him like a tidal wave. He hadn’t realised he had even taken a few steps backwards until Eret placed their hand on his shoulder. 

“Them,” the blonde reiterated, “the facility.”

Everyone fell silent, whether out of confusion or fear, Dream didn’t know. “You gonna elaborate on that?” Tommy’s accented voice came from the crowd, and Dream’s fist tightened involuntarily as he remembered the last time he had explained the story to Eret and Punz, “The facility,” he began, as he scanned the crowd only to register the fact that everyone was listening intently, “they take, abduct, and kidnap people, for the sake of creating their own perfect weapon— the perfect assassin.”

Wilbur was fairly confident there was a wistful look on the man’s face as he spoke, but he couldn’t possibly link it to their problem at hand. “They experiment on people, fusing fabled creatures’ traits with humans to create hybrids,” his eyes were clouded, “they train them with either normal lectures and trainings, or purely torture.”

He remained silent for a few seconds, before continuing, “If they misbehave, they die. And now, the reason I’m here and not waging war on L’Manberg,” he looked up to meet Wilbur’s confused brown eyes, “is because they’re already here, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike and bring us down,” he glanced at a certain person, “just like how Sapnap was nearly killed.”

“It was not _my_ fault that Marcus was so damn good at luring—“

“You speak like you talk from experience,” Tubbo spoke up, cutting off Sapnap, but the ravenette hadn’t missed how his friend had flinched when he’d mentioned the name ‘Marcus’. 

Dream seemed to be in a haze of panic for a second, before he quickly wiped the expression away, though ignoring Tubbo’s statement, “Well, now that I’ve completely laid out what we know, might as well just let them attack us,” 

“Answer Tubbo’s question,” a familiar voice interrupted, and Dream realised it belonged to Fundy, “answer it. How do you know everything about this so-called ‘enemy’ you’ve been saying?” the fox’s ears visibly flattened, “After all you’ve done, you can’t possibly expect us to believe everything—“

No one had anticipated his next move, and a second later, Dream was an inch away from Fundy’s snout, holding the shorter hybrid by the hem of his shirt, “Tubbo was right, _Fundy,_ ” Dream hissed, “I _do_ talk from experience. Because I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Because I don’t want to relive the moments where I watch my entire family getting _slain_ before me,” he released the fox, and a second later he’d teleported back to where he originally stood, bits of fragmented purple fading from existence like how one would pearl. 

Wilbur understood—his eyes widening at the fact that Dream was a person with.. powers. How had he never noticed?

A second realisation dawned on him— after all those years fighting against Dream, he— at some point— did wonder if all this fighting was truly necessary. He didn’t know, didn’t apprehend why Dream fought so vehemently with that fiery passion. He understood now— the wars were an excuse to keep ‘them’ away from their land. Guilt bubbled up his throat and he frowned, watching the younger man recompose himself. 

“We’re short on time,” Wilbur didn’t miss the slight tremble in Dream’s voice, “they already know your city like the back of their hand.” he bit his lip, “The three people you‘ve currently locked up— they’re undercover people working for the facility.” his gaze locked with Wilbur’s, “You’ve let them in without hesitation.” 

His tone wasn’t accusatory, and Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to retort at the man, “I have. And I regret my decision,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “it’s on you, Dream. What do we do?” 

He thought he saw some form of recognition flicker across the blonde’s face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced with a glare that could kill, “We storm their temporary shelter, up along the west border of L’Manberg,” he ran a hand through his hair, “as for the three of them.. we keep them as hostages.” 

“We’re not gonna kill them?” he heard a sarcastic whine from the crowd, recognising the voice as Karl’s, and he huffed, “No, we’re not. It gives us an advantage over them.” 

“That settles it. We’ll—“ a crash was heard. Dream felt the ground rumble, and his head swivelled to see a middle-aged man with glasses, his daunting _white white white_ lab coat swaying in the light breeze, a group of forty-ish men and women standing behind him, “Hello, gentlemen,” the man spoke, his booming voice ricocheting off the building walls, “I think a little talk will do us wonders.” 

But Dream wasn’t focused on the man. 

From the looks of their clothing, they were obviously in disguise before they came, but their familiar bright coats could not have been mistaken. His breathing stuttered, his eyes travelling over to each and every one of their appearances. They looked like they hadn’t changed at all, regardless of the seven year gap. 

Dream hadn’t even noticed Tommy bumping into him, sending his already worn out porcelain mask shattering on the ground.


	8. This is Just the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter before 2020 ends bois 🤠
> 
> i don’t have much to say, other than um.. sorry for another cliffhanger?? 
> 
> this is gonna be one heck of a chapter

Tommy scowled, his arms crossing in front of his chest as those filthy foreigners in their awful looking lab coats crashed their city, their leading person grinning, “I think a little talk will do us wonders.”

_Do us wonders my ass,_ Tommy muttered inwardly as his hand went to hover over his crossbow, fingers grazing the wooden material. He started forward, his hand now tightly gripping the weapon as he brushed past a person in his way. Maybe his anger was a tad bit too overwhelming, as he accidentally bumped into the person instead. _Brushing past sounded a lot better in my head,_ he frowned, turning to apologise but he realised what he’d done. 

Before anyone could even react, the mask had already hit the floor, its formerly immaculate porcelain shattering as it did so. Tommy gulped, his eyes widening as he moved to glance at Dream, his face revealed to the entire population.

Tommy didn’t know what to do. His expression was obviously mirroring Dream’s right now, as the dirty blonde man had his lips parted in a shocked manner, eyeing Tommy with a hint of disbelief, “Dream, man, I’m so sorry.”

Dream seemed to snap out of his stupor, and he quickly composed his countenance, shaking his head, “That’s alright,”

As the now unmasked man walked past him, Tommy could feel anger practically rolling off him. He didn’t know whether it was directed towards him or the men standing before them, but whoever results in facing Dream’s wrath couldn’t be any better.

“Right, enough of your bullshit,” Tommy didn’t overlook how Dream seemed to hesitate, “what is your purpose here?”

The leading man in the glasses smirked, “See, our men have never stepped foot upon this land, ever. There’s so much going on here, you know?” he gestured to Fundy then nodded to Techno, “Animal hybrids, natural beings born in nature. We’ve only come across man-made ones,” he grinned, teeth showing, “we’d like to invite your friends over to our facility to do some..” he seemed to look for the right word, “tests. Nothing harmful,”

“Anything concerning your precious facility is fucked up,” Dream snarled, his emerald- amethyst eyes narrowing, “if you think your large number of people can intimidate us, then you can kindly fuck off,”

The man ‘tsk’ed, shaking his head, “You’re making this way harder for us, kid.”

With a start, Dream noticed the people behind him had already brandished their weapons. The blonde swallowed— he knew they had a better arsenal of weapons compared to what L’Manberg had. But they had more skill, and right now Dream was counting on that to be their vantage point. “One of us is gonna die fighting here, old man,” he hissed, his fingers tracing the hilt of his sword, “you can still back off if you want to.”

The man laughed, and it vaguely reminded him of Schlatt when he was alive, “It would be an absolute humiliation to us if we had gone and lost to a child and his pathetic friends,” he slightly bent down to Dream’s height, “Let me tell you something, bud,” Dream’s eyes widened at the nickname, his breathing caught in his throat, “we’re going to fight you, and we _will win.”_

He straightened, and a bow had somehow made it to his hands, “Prepare to lose,” his smirk widened, his coffee-brown eyes glowing under the afternoon sun, “number 4.”

———

George didn’t know how everything could’ve possibly escalated this quickly. One moment they were still enemies, his sword reluctantly pointed at Dream’s throat, and the next second they were combining forces in order to take down the enemy. He had to admit— their style of clothing really didn’t fit his taste. 

Everything was a blur. Normally, George wasn’t a sword person, but it was better than being defenceless. It was like the enchanted weapon had a mind of its own, guiding George to the nearest man and completely catching him off guard, slicing his head off clean. Blood splattered on his shirt. He frowned, eyeing the stain before shrugging, _if he was gonna fight, then it’s gonna get dirty._

He brought his sword up just in time as another man came from behind him, holding a flaming torch as he attempted to burn George alive, but the goggled man reacted faster, swinging his sword at a slanted direction and it made impact with his opponent’s head. 

Sadly for George, he had only managed to merely knock the man off his legs. The man growled, abandoning his died out torch and withdrawing a knife from his backpocket, raising it above his head in an effort to pierce George’s skull. The silver weapon flashed at the corner of his vision, and George swore he was going to die. 

“Not on my watch,” Bad lunged at the man, tackling him to the ground. George hurriedly fumbled for his sword, tightly gripping the hilt and bringing the diamond weapon downwards perpendicularly through the man’s chest. He panted, wiping away the beads of sweat on his forehead while helping his friend up, shooting a smile at him, “Thanks.” 

“Anytime,” Bad winked, and his expression changed instantly as his gaze locked with another person trying to attack them, “duck!” 

George did as he was told, withdrawing his shield and held it above his body. A few seconds passed, and by the time George had put away his shield, he had already lost sight of Bad and the man. 

He quickly scouted the area again, noting how a majority of the enemy were already bleeding to their death. His gaze landed on the two boys in his direct vision, panic seemingly etched on their faces as they tried to parry and dodge the hoard of people in their way. With a grunt, George lodged his sword at the nearest man, pulling out instantly and letting him bleed out. Tommy gave a breath of relief, a smile grazing his face, “Thanks, big man,” 

George grinned, raising his shield up as an arrow shot their direction, “This isn’t just your battle, Tommy.” he shoved his shield at Tubbo’s way, watching as the wood splintered as a dagger stuck out from the inside. Tubbo flashed him an awkward smile, swiftly finishing off the woman that was attempting to stab him. 

He gestured for Niki to come over, raising his goggles over his head to view his surroundings better, “Niki, we’ve got some injuries here.” 

The woman raised her head from where she was wrapping up a potential arrow wound in Puffy’s arm, nodding, “Coming right after.” 

George excused himself from the out of breath teens and continued venturing, his eyes glancing at the bloody mess that was the enemy’s doing. His vision landed on something glinting amidst the mangled bodies and ichor, and with a start, he realised it was a syringe filled with unknown liquid. 

“George—!” he heard someone call him, and his gaze swiftly turned to a man who was advancing on him, gaining momentum— George’s stomach dropped. _He was gonna die. He was gonna die—_

From the corner of his peripheral vision, he saw Dream frantically yanking out the embedded knife he had used to slice someone’s neck off, and pulling his arm backwards. The weaponry soared through the air, and George panicked as he noticed the weapon was a little off from the target. It was no use escaping fate. He was gonna—

The knife changed its trajectory all of a sudden, heading towards his direction. Blood spewed across his face as he watched the man’s eyes widened, before the knife protruded from his abdomen and he crumpled to the floor, dead. 

George looked up at Dream, and before he even moved, the man had snatched the syringe from his fingers, throwing it headfirst to the ground. The mysterious liquid vanished along with the glass, and George was kind of relieved he didn’t do anything stupid with it. 

He raised his discoloured eyes from the ground, grabbing George’s wrist and teleporting off. They appeared a few metres away, with George nearly stumbling on his feet, “What were you doing, picking up stuff from the ground?” the blonde hissed, panic evident on his face, “You could’ve fucking died!” 

“Well I didn’t,” George defended, watching incredulity make its way up Dream’s face. The freckled man laughed, a bitter hint lacing his tone, “I was the one who saved you! Don’t give me that shit, George. What if you died, huh?” Dream was shouting now, and the goggled man realised it was because he was worried, “Blame it all on me again?” 

A shadow fell over them, and George saw something glint. His eyes widened, and Dream must’ve noticed his expression, as he turned to find himself face to face with the man who waged war on his friends. Instinctively, he backed away, pushing George behind him as he did, “Step away from us, Andy.”

The bespectacled man seemed delighted that Dream remembered his name, “So you _haven’t_ forgotten about me, number 4,” George felt Dream tense at the code, “come on now. Why can’t we just have a little reunion? Must bloodshed be necessary in this battle?” 

Dream clenched his fists, “It’s completely necessary when you’re doing the same thing to my friends like what you did to me,” George’s breathing hitched, feeling the steady heartbeat of the man shielding him. Andy sighed, “Well, it needn’t end this way, but,” he gestured around him, and Dream realised that his friends— the very people he tried to protect, were all down. Unconscious, thankfully, and not dead. 

“Might as well give up, kid.” Andy released a breath he was holding, a false look of sympathy on his face. Dream narrowed his own— that was the exact same look the man had as his mind flashed back to years ago, when the same person had ruffled his hair and stabbed him in the back. 

His fingers met cool air. Dream’s breathing stuttered, and Andy’s grin grew wider. The blonde sighed, a tremble evident in his breath. He turned to see a woman— _Julia_ — holding a passed out George in her arms, the same maniacal glint in her eyes. He wasn’t hypothetically trapped. He of course had the ability to teleport, but _damn,_ the two scientists had him exactly where they had anticipated. They knew he wouldn’t go without taking his friend with him. 

He was so lost in thought he didn’t even realise someone caressing his face, and his vision rose to meet Zack’s charcoal ones, a feral smirk on his face. A needle sunk into his neck, and as much as he fought staying awake, his eyelids wouldn’t listen to his command, and soon he fell slack in the man’s embrace, “Goodnight, Dream.”


	9. Caged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hAPPY NEW YEAR YALL 🤠 (although it’s like 10pm on the first of jan) bUT ANYWAY
> 
> i’m so sorry this chapter came out late (half of bc i was procrastinating on everything and half of bc i had no brain cells left to write)
> 
> to make up for this, 2.6k words you’re welcome 😳

TW: suicide implications, drowning, mild abuse 

He’ll admit— getting drugged and shot the first time round was the most embarrassing highlight of his life. 

Techoblade sighed irritatedly, flicking off the piece of rubble on his torn velvet cape. Wilbur frowned at his little movement, budging so he could get more warmth with his body pressed up against his brother, “You know, containment isn’t so bad.”

“You’re being way too positive,” Techno remarked, blowing a strand of hair away from his forehead, “you should learn a little from Tommy. Silence is always the best remedy,” Wilbur narrowed his eyes at Techno as if _’are you joking’_ , but with one look at his traumatised blonde brother he shut up. 

Tubbo huddled close with the aforementioned boy, fiddling with the neck of his suit. He had abandoned his tie ages ago, using it as a bandage for Karl’s head injury. Wilbur rubbed his temples— had it all gone wrong when he had let those strangers in? Was this entirely his fault?

“It’s not,” Bad assured him from where he was sitting across the room, his legs tucked up to his chest. Wilbur gave him a questioning look, and Bad grinned, despite the circumstance they were in, “I’ve seen you enough to know what face you make when something’s troubling you.” 

“Huh,” George muttered from where he lay against Sapnap, “and here I thought you were the most oblivious one.” Bad gave him a look, “I might be a muffinhead but I’m the smartest muffinhead you’ll ever meet.” he huffed, an indignant look on his face. Sapnap brought his hands up to his ears, feigning a look of annoyance, “My ears are gonna bleed with all of you shouting.” 

Wilbur glanced around the room, noting how Puffy and Niki seemed to be tending to everyone in the room. Quackity had taken off his beanie for Karl to act as a temporary pillow, the man quietly snoring in a corner. Fundy, Eret and Punz seemed to be having a small pep talk, and Wilbur realised that in reality, everyone could get along really well. Why’d they fight against each other the first place, then?

A soft groan caught his attention, and Wilbur swivelled his gaze to Dream, who was running a hand through his hair in an attempt to shake himself up, “Looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake up,” Wilbur smirked, and Dream gave him a scowl. 

“Well I apologise for being drugged while most of you got knocked out,” he muttered, sitting up straight. He gave a cursory scan of his surroundings, noting they were in a cell. A sigh escaped his lips, “we’re fucked.” 

He glanced around the room, a frown on his lips, “How long have you guys been here?” Techno grimaced, his eye twitching, “not completely sure, but I reckon it’s gotta be around a day or two.”

Quackity shifted from where he sat, a hand on his neck, “Any idea what they’re gonna do?” 

Dream bit his lip, unpleasant memories flicking back and forth in his mind, “No, but the worst they could do is, well,” he pressed his lips into a thin line, “entirely change up your DNA.” 

Niki’s face fell, “You’re kidding?” 

The dirty blonde casted a sideways look at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Do I sound like I am?” 

Wilbur watched as the man turned his vision to the bars that stood in their way to freedom, a look of concentration on his face. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, glancing at Techno to find answers. His brother shrugged, giving him a rather bored look. The brunette turned his gaze back to Dream, and with a start he noticed purple particles clouding his hands. 

Realisation dawned on him— he was trying to teleport. 

He stayed in that position a while longer, and eventually he gave up, a look of exhaustion on his face, “Nice to know they finally upgraded their defences,” he muttered, lying back against the wall, “these used to be broken way too easily.” 

“Techno tried breaking the bars too,” Tommy pointed out, fingers propping his chin as he sat cross-legged, “I don’t think these things are breakable.” 

Footsteps echoed from the empty hallway, and almost everyone turned their heads to the source of the sound. Dream’s breathing quickened as his eyes landed on the man opening the cell door. 

“Good. I was hoping to find you awake,” Andy muttered almost nonchalantly, flipping the keys and hung them to the back of his jean pockets, “We’ve got a long day ahead of us,” 

“And you can get your filthy hands off us,” Tommy started, but Tubbo pulled him backwards, shaking his head in almost a plea. The boy scowled, but sat back with his back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of him. Andy grinned, nodding to Tubbo, “See, he understands,” after glancing at each and every one of them, he clasped his hands together, a smirk forming on his lips, “We’ll start with you first, since you’re so understanding.” 

Tubbo’s eyes widened, his eyes showing he was panicked but his stance said otherwise, “I’m not leaving my friends here, so you can step back,” he growled. Andy chuckled, shaking his head, “That’s even better, why not take two at a time, am I right?” 

Two of his men appeared behind him, and with his fingers pointed towards Tommy and Tubbo, the two sixteen year olds backed up furiously. Wilbur got up with Dream, evidently trying to stop the men from reaching the two, “Are you fucking insane? They’re only sixteen!” 

Andy shrugged, “They fought against me, didn’t they?” the corner of his lips quirked upwards, “Bring them to me,” 

“No,” a nervous laugh escaped Dream’s lips, his expression frantic, “take me instead. We both know how that works, Andy,” he murmured in a low voice, “would you rather have two, useless and oblivious teenagers trash your lab or me, someone who knows their way around this place?” Wilbur eyed Tommy as an offended expression formed on his face, but Techno shook his head from beside him, a firm glare on the blonde. 

Andy sighed, “Enough mind games, Dre—“ 

“Andy, Andy.” Dream breathed, his hands held in front of him placatingly, “Think about it. What’s the one thing you want right now?” he watched as thoughts clouded the bespectacled man’s eyes, “You want to have the best assassin out there. I can do that,” Dream murmured, much to everyone’s protest. 

He gave them a glare, and his eyes locked with Sapnap’s. The ravenette looked torn between supporting his friend and the ethical way, but complied to Dream’s gaze, knowing what his friend had in his pocket. 

Andy seemed to consider it, then gave in, “Our creations _have_ been going haywire since you left,” he noted, and Dream’s shoulders sagged, a breath of relief escaping his lips, “but if we don’t manage this through,” the middle-aged man tilted his head, a gleam in his eyes, “you get killed, and your friends will be potential creations.” 

“Deal,” Dream replied almost immediately. Shock was clouding Wilbur’s senses— never in his life had he met anyone as selfless as Dream to give his life for his friends— and former enemies. 

“347,” Andy instructed, turning around to let his men escort (or drag?) Dream away, “and don’t let him escape.” the men grunted as they took the dirty blonde from the scruff of his hoodie, an annoyed expression on his face as he let them pull him away. Andy gave a satisfied smirk, closing the cell door behind him with a click of the lock. 

As the footsteps faded away, almost everyone burst into a cacophony of angry cries, “Why the fuck did he do that?” George whispered, panic rising to his face. Bad seemed frustrated, “He’s doing it for the greater good.” 

“‘Greater good’ my ass!” Sapnap hissed, getting up and pacing around the cell, anger rolling off him, “Stupid bastard. Always placing himself in danger,” his fists met the wall, and Wilbur didn’t miss the quiet gasp leaving his lips before the man’s knuckles started bleeding. 

Tubbo and Tommy were still frozen in the corner where they had back-pedalled to, the former being more confused than shocked and the latter probably from surprise. “Why would— why would he—“ Tommy looked up to meet Techno’s steely gaze, “why would he save us? From harm?” 

Techno rubbed his eyes, letting out a sigh, “Tommy, you have to remember,” he bent down, leaning against the wall as support, “Dream isn’t the enemy. He’s merely protectin’ all of us from danger,” he toyed with the fluff around his neck, “he’s a selfless guy.” 

The room quieted. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to him,” Tubbo whispered, out of his stupor, “right?”

The two brothers remained silent at the question. 

———

“Go through the basics, blood sample, neurological performance, et cetera, et cetera, ” Andy instructed, booting the fMRI, “ _especially_ his brain activity,”

Dream bit his lip, but said nothing. He felt someone jabbing a needle to his side, and he winced involuntarily, feeling a pinprick of blood dripping down his arm. He glared at Marcus, who only grinned back. Hands went above his vision, and Dream assumed someone— _Zack_ — was setting up the procedures to do his brain scan. Wires connected to detectors tracing to his temples and linked back to the computer. 

He shifted uneasily in his seat, listening to the monotonous typing of the keyboard and the scratching of pencil against paper. Julia looked up from where she was previously scribbling notes on her clipboard, a smirk gracing her lips, “You better make yourself at home,” she set the pencil above her ear, walking towards where Andy was, “this is gonna get uncomfortable.”

Before he could ask why, his mind went static, and darkness welcomed him. 

———

_He couldn’t breathe._

_Light flickered a long way above him. Everything seemed calm almost, if not for the fact that he was gonna die._

_He didn’t know how long he had been down, or how much time had passed. He knew for a fact that he was slowly drowning, though. Initially, he had tried to swim upwards, but something was pushing the current down— gravity? Maybe, he thought, his brain foggy._

_He brought his hands forward, pathetically trying to teleport somewhere— anywhere. Purple particles fizzed and sparked around the tip of his fingers, but after a minute of futilely trying to use his ability, he gave up. Teleportation was exhausting, but forced teleportation completely drained him. He gasped as he was pulled deeper under the water, his eyes widening as he struggled to breathe._

_“Just let me die,” he muttered, spluttering as water entered his lungs. His eyes widened, then closing as water seemed to come at every direction—_

__Work, _he begged his powers, his heart beating faster than ever,_ please. _The fragmented bits flickered and flashed again, and he closed his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried and tried and_ tried— __

_Cool air hit his skin. He coughed, wheezed, gagged as the water that was previously forcing down his throat was thrown up on the ground. As he raised his head to speak, his cheek went in contact with a slap. His lips parted with the impact, shock written all over his face. Initially it was fine, but then the stinging started, and he brought a quivering hand over his cheek, the bruise burning under his touch._

_His gaze faltered under the disapproving glance of the supervisor, “Six minutes underwater. I had expected you to teleport out within a minute or so,” the woman remarked, vitriol coating her lips, “are you trying to get yourself killed, boy?”_

_He shook his head, blonde locks falling over his eyes, “N-no, ma’am,” he whispered, hatred searing his insides, “I’m sorry.”_

_Firm fingers gripped his chin, and the woman forcefully inclined the teen’s head to glare at him, hazel eyes meeting heterochromatic ones, “Listen here, kid. I’m not like others,” her lips curled inward as if to form a snarl, “you don’t mess around while I’m here. So you either take your task seriously,” she released her hold on his chin, “or you die.”_

_The boy nodded vehemently, his hand not leaving his bruise on his cheek, “Yes, ma’am.”_

_The woman scowled at him, grabbing her tablet and leaving the room, a click ricocheting off the blank walls. The teen pulled his legs close to himself, sobs wracking his body. No one came to check on him._ No one cares. __

_“Wouldn’t it be better if I just died?” he whispered to himself, tears stinging his bruised cheek, “I can’t do anything right—!” the salty liquid didn’t seem to stop flowing from his eyes despite his furious wiping. He sniffed, raising the hem of his shirt to stain the tears dripping down to his chin. ‘you’re perfect in our eyes,’ he chuckled quietly, “that’s fucking bullshit.”_

_Something— or someone— wailed in a distance. His ears perked up, momentarily ending his crying. Slowly but carefully, he picked himself up and moved towards the door, pressing his ear against the cement as he listened to the source of the sound. Alarms. Alarms were blaring._

_With a blink of his eyes, he disappeared from the room and ended up on the other side. The siren was much clearer now, and he quietly navigated himself around the empty hallways, his eyes focused and his ears alert. Footsteps resounded from the walls, and he quickly teleported away before they could find him._

_He popped up next to an abandoned room, the scent of burnt chemicals and dead corpses entering his nostrils. He blanched, walking away from the deserted laboratory and making his way down the rather narrow hallway._

_His hands brushed past a doorknob, and he swiftly fiddled with the lock, hearing it unlatch with a click and opened the door. Bright light entered his vision, and before his eyes was an entirely new world. He suppressed a laugh, disbelief crossing his features as he breathed in the fresh air— he hadn’t felt this alive in a decade._

_His eyes drifted to his surroundings, and he noticed he was somewhere near a few dumpsters. “The door must’ve been an emergency escape exit,” he murmured to himself, briefly rummaging through the left out objects before finding himself a good enough satchel, dumping the stuff he had on him— a locket from his mother, a faded family photo and the plain white mask the facility had given him to hide his face when someone else visited._

_He hesitated, clutching the mask in his hands. He had grown attached to the porcelain, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the edges of the immaculate disguise. But it also reminded him what a freak he was— the boy with dangerous powers. He casted a sideways look at the dumpster, filing through a cardboard box that contained stationery, giving a satisfied grin when he found what he was looking for._

_With nimble fingers, he held the marker in his hand, drawing a smiley face on the mask. He beamed at the face— his mother used to compliment his smile._

_“Number 4!” someone yelled, and the boy dropped the marker in panic, tying the mask around the band of the satchel and teleported away, landing at the entrance to a forest. He didn’t know where he was heading, but anywhere the opposite direction of the men was better than nothing._

_He was free._


	10. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream do be teasing us w his face reveal 😔 
> 
> i’m back w another chapter yall 🤠 sorry for the wait i finally finished my maths (ew)
> 
> here’s 2.8k words to make it up 😳✌🏻

The same set of familiar footsteps sounded from the hallway leading to their cell. Eret looked up just as the dangling of the keys came to an abrupt stop and a click was heard. Andy grumbled under his breath about how disgusting this place was before dusting himself, sending Puffy and Bad into a sneezing fit. 

“Right, the fox and the pig comes with me.” Andy inclined his head at the two hybrids. Eret could feel Fundy bristling beside him, his ears flattened and his tail bushy. They glared at the man, getting up from where they were originally sitting against the wall, “What happened to our deal?” they jabbed a finger at the man, “Dream better not be dead.” 

Andy chuckled, stepping away from Eret, “Oh, relax. He’s perfectly fine,” his eyes gleamed in what seemed to be malice, “progress is brilliant. He’s very obedient for someone like him, you know?” Eret held their arm out to stop Sapnap from strangling the man, “Either way, both Fundy and Techno are _not_ coming with you. That’s the deal.” 

Andy’s eyes flashed, moving to attack Eret but Punz stopped him, the blonde firmly gripping the man’s forearm. Andy huffed irritatedly, pulling away, “My supervisor would like to run simple tests on every single one of you.” 

This time it was Karl refraining Quackity from murdering the scientist, “Your supervisor’s word is bullshit! Tell them to fuck off because we’re not giving in to you and your stupid facility,” the Mexican hissed, inches away from the bespectacled man’s face, “Dream’s sacrifice wasn’t worth anything to you, huh?”

The middle-aged man only seemed amused, “Oh, no. He’s a very valuable asset,” he grinned, “he’s given us quite the shock, to be honest,” Andy sighed dramatically, enjoying how that seemed to catch everyone’s attention, “but enough of him. Fundy and Techno, right?” he beamed, clapping his hands. 

Heavy thumps dragged across the concrete hallway, and five bulky men appeared at the previously empty exit. Eret bit their lip, nervousness clawing up their throat. Andy gesticulated to the animal hybrids, “If you come, we spare everyone else’s lives,” he jumped right to bargaining, a smirk on his lips, “if not, well, you know what happens.” 

Eret felt Fundy’s defensive demeanour drop, and the fox dropped his head, his eyes downcast, “Just take us.” 

Techno was visibly down to fight, but given his friends’ condition against six well-trained men, he had no choice but to give in. His death glare met the muscled men as they cuffed him up, three of them slightly trembling under his gaze. Eret couldn’t believe what was happening— was everyone going to be taken away slowly by slowly, just like this?

“Sleep tight,” Andy grinned as he locked the cell doors, his footsteps fading away. 

They turned to the crowd, “That’s it?” they muttered, a frown on their face, “We’re just gonna give up? Like that?” 

“Eret, buddy,” Punz whispered, “they’re gonna take us whether you like it or not, whether we like it or not. We don’t have a say in this,” Punz looked miserable, his platinum blonde hair tangled and messy as all of them haven’t showered in days, “I only regret not fighting hard enough,” 

“On the plus side, we’ve got food?” Tubbo offered, trying to lighten up the mood. Tommy scowled beside him, poking at the plain and tasteless meal set before him, “These taste like ashes.” 

“Puffy and I could make sausages and mashed potatoes work better than this lump of garbage,” Niki wrinkled her nose at the food, ditching her fork in the middle of the pile of potatoes. Bad shrugged, taking a bite out of the sausages, “At least we won’t starve to death,” 

“How are all of you thinking so damn positively?” Eret whisper-shouted, though not before hearing a quiet ‘language!’ in the background, “They’re breaking the pact. Day by the day, they’re gonna take one or two of us off to do their— whatever they plan to do to us. None of you are scared?” they prompted, “Angry?”

Wilbur shifted from where he was laying down on his back, straightening himself, “Look, Eret. Like Punz said, we don’t have a say in this,” the brunette sighed, eyeing the meal placed before him, “we all know they’re breaking the deal. But we’re assured that our testing is only over the basics— I’m sure Fundy and Techno would be brought back tomorrow in exchange for two of us. A cycle,”

Eret bit their lip, returning to their spot on the floor. They hoped what Wilbur said was true. 

———

Fundy gave an animalistic growl as the men shoved him and Techno into a room, unlatching the cuffs that kept his arms tied to their backs. The room shut with a click, indicating it was locked. Fundy rubbed his wrists, a frown on his face. His ears perked up, and through the— what he assumed was— one-way mirror, he could hear the faint clacking of heels and soon after, the mirror reverted to a transparent glass. 

Fundy narrowed his eyes at the woman before him. She was a redhead, her hair tied behind her into a ponytail with startling hazel eyes. She looked about fifty(?), with your average office lady outfit and their notorious white coats. A pair of sunglasses hung from one of the pockets, and Fundy would’ve laughed at how she would be using those under the facility’s dim lights if not facing a possible life-death situation. 

“Technoblade and Fundy,” the woman started, her index finger on a button to magnify her voice on the speaker, “natural hybrids? That’s a first,” 

Techno scoffed, crossing his arms in front of him, “Better cut to the chase. What’re you gonna do to us?”

The woman grinned, looking up from where her eyes originally downcast, “Why would you assume that?

The two hybrids remained silent, and the woman chuckled, “It’s Dream, isn’t it?” she sighed, setting down her clipboard, “I’ll need you to forget whatever he’s said, because we’ve changed our way of experimenting,” she beamed, “don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything harmful to you. I just want to run some tests on your blood type, reactions, et cetera. Nothing serious,” 

Fundy frowned, glancing at Techno and noted how the blood god mirrored his expression, “For all we know, you want to run simple tests on us,” he started, and the woman nodded, “right, but we made a deal with good ol’ Andy that in exchange for Dream, we stay out of harm.” 

“And, like I said, nothing serious,” the woman reiterated, “it’s just a simple.. assessment.” 

“How would we know if we’re not actually falling into another one of your traps?” Fundy blurted out, his tail swishing, “You may say you’ve changed, but for all we know anything that comes out of your mouth could be false promises.” 

The woman’s smile faltered, “Listen, fox. We’re not gonna do anything harmful to you,” her voice dropped to a deadly whisper, and both Techno and Fundy took a precarious step backwards as if she’d jump through the glass, “so you better shut up and let us conduct our trial.” 

Fundy growled under his breath as scanners popped up from the walls, the machine lowering down to his height. “Don’t move.” the robotic voice ordered, and Fundy did as he was told, his stance stiff. He watched as the transparent border between them slowly dimmed, and his tail lashed in frustration. 

“Calm yourself,” Techno murmured, standing still for the scanner to revolve around his body, occasionally beeping and flashing lights, “throwin’ a fit won’t do you any good.” Fundy complied to his words, albeit reluctantly, “It feels weird,” his eyes drifted away, “like we’re circus animals— ironically— being watched and pointed at,” he fiddled with his fingerless gloves, “I don’t like this.”

Techno sighed, watching as the scan pulled itself back to where it was hidden in the walls, “We don’t have a choice here,” he scratched the back of his head, “it’s either do or die.” 

“I guess you’re— _ow, what the fuck?_ — right,” Fundy scowled at the needle that stabbed his arm, flinching away from the silver, “god, where do these come from?” he heard a grunt from Techno as his blood was also being taken, dropping the needle to another robotic arm holding a test tube. It corked the two vials and returned to the walls. 

There was a vague clink from the other side of the wall, and Fundy assumed it was the test tubes being dropped. They waited for a few minutes, with Fundy’s ears twitching every second or two and Techno heaving another sigh as they stood waiting. 

Fundy plopped down on the floor, and Techno followed suit, both sitting cross-legged, “I wonder how the others are doing.” 

———

He feels like he’s becoming the very person he swore not to be. 

He steadied his breathing, though his heart still thudded painfully loud against his chest. The scene was almost mocking, the evening wind ruffling his hair slightly, the setting sun giving his skin a unique glow, but the dead bodies and bleeding corpses ruined the picture. 

The knife clattered to the ground, slipping from his bloody fingers. He bit his lip, sighing as he picked up the knife again, wiping away the liquid that stained the metal blade with the hem of his shirt. Everything felt wrong. _Of course,_ he chuckled to himself, pocketing the weapon, _you literally just killed a little more than a hundred people._

Is this how everything’s gonna be like? He didn’t want it to be true, after all, he’d been running from the facility his entire life, and just when he thought he was safely hidden, they bring another group and storm the Dream SMP. 

_Why are you even trying to defend yourself?_ His mind whispered, and he blinked, shaking his head. _You enjoy killing. You think it’s exhilarating._

“No, fuck off,” he murmured, teleporting away. A headache was starting to form, and he groaned inwardly, rolling his eyes as he teleported yet another few kilometres, finally reaching the facility’s doors. Loud beeping was heard as he walked through the threshold to his designated room, and Zack looked up, beaming, “You’re back.”

“I’m aware of that,” Dream muttered dismissively, shoving his arm in Zack’s direction, “take this stupid thing off me.” 

Zack frowned at Dream’s attitude, “You know I can’t do that,” 

Dream froze, his lips parting, “You said you’d take this damn thing off me when I finished my mission,” he hissed, rummaging through his pocket and holding a USB in his hand, throwing it on the table, “release it.”

“No can do, bud,” Zack grinned, returning to his desk and plugging in the USB, earning a bewildered look from Dream, “you know the rules. Madam Jones seals the deal.” 

Dream scoffed, laughing, “Her? That bitch,” he growled, punching the walls, “she thinks she can keep this stupid thing on me?”

“Actually, she does.” a feminine voice sounded from the doorframe, and Dream turned, only to be met with steely hazel eyes. “Do we have a problem, number 4?” she murmured, walking over to Zack to take a look at the information from the USB, “We can always take your friends and—“

“Not at all, ma’am,” Dream interrupted, and he could practically see the she-devil grin even with her back towards him, “That’s a good boy.” 

He held in his retort, keeping his mouth shut. Madam Jones muttered something to Zack before turning to him, clicking her heels. He glared at her as she approached him, observing her as she took out a handkerchief from her inner pocket and started wiping the blood stained on his face. He tried pulling away from her, but she only got closer, eventually backing him up against the wall. 

“How many?” she murmured, moving to his chin as he uncomfortably inclined his head, “124,” she pocketed the cloth, and he reverted back to his original position, “you made me murder 124 agents just to get this fucking USB?” he whispered, incredulity clouding his eyes, “What’s so important, anyway?”

“That’s for me to know, and you to keep your nose out of it,” she replied, turning away as she made her way to the door, “that wristband stays in forever unless I say otherwise, by the way.” 

Dream waited for her to leave before he threw his arms against the wall, letting out a growl of frustration. Zack shook his head, sighing as he picked up his stuff and the USB, leaving Dream alone in the room. 

———

“Oh my god, Techno,” Tommy whispered as his brother was thrown back into the cell, grunting as he shook the bulky man off him. The man gave them a look, closing the cell door and left them. 

Techno waved Tommy away from him, settling himself between Wilbur and Bad. Tubbo gave him a sympathetic look, “You look worse than Fundy.” 

“I’m quite alright,” the fox interrupted, wincing as he moved his arm, “it’s probably just a scratch. Techno looked like he went through hell and back,” the half- Piglin snorted, uncloaking his cape and tore the end of it, using it as bandages, “they wanted to test my strength plus durability. And stamina.” 

Sapnap scowled, “Sounds horrible.”

Techno gave him a look, “At least they didn’t go and ruin my DNA. They were actually pretty.. chill.”

George spluttered, “Chill? From Dream’s description they sounded like demons in disguise,”

“They seem nice, but we don’t know if that’s just a façade,” Puffy pointed out, shrugging, “I’m keen on believing what Dream said though. He’s the only one who thoroughly knows what they do,” 

“That’s nice to hear,” Dream’s voice sounded from the other side of their cell, and all heads snapped to him, “or not that much of a great news, seeing Andy broke the deal.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

Bad blinked. Sapnap blinked. Tommy blinked. 

Tubbo suppressed a little laugh, “I think you’re missing the point here, big D,” he rose to move closer to the man, “how— why’re you here?”

“Oh,” Dream deadpanned, gripping the bars to the cell, “I teleported here. Got something for you guys,” 

The way he was so casual about everything completely unnerved Sapnap, “No, Dream,” he cut the older boy off, “just give me a second here,” he took a deep breath, trying to compose a sentence with the few vocabulary popping in his head, “how— did they let you come here?” 

Dream frowned, tilting his head, “No? I’m here on my own accord.” 

“How did you,” the ravenette gestured to the place, “y’know, teleport here? I thought it restrained your ability.”

Dream gave a lopsided grin, “The cell is ability-proof,” he corrected, “the outside is completely fine.”

Sapnap’s breathing picked up, “But you’re here—“ he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re gonna get caught.” 

“No, I won’t,” the blonde assured, defiant, “but you gotta let me talk, dude.” 

Sapnap raised his hands in a joking manner, sitting back down with the rest of them. Dream bit his lip, his eyes wandering, “I’ve got an escape plan. Hear me out,” he reached to the back of his jeans, pulling up a poorly drawn but clear floor plan of the facility, “I, um, improvised,” a nervous laugh escaped his lips, “I know they’re taking two of you out for their tests each day, so while you’re at it, try to familiarise yourself with the place.”

Wilbur took hold of the paper, unfolding it to reveal the map. “This should be easy enough to navigate, you’d just have to be careful of people coming your way.” Dream added. 

As he watched his friends huddle up to discuss their escape route, he couldn’t help but feel tired. It had been a long day, and he desperately needed a shower. He was surprised when no one told him he smelled like a walking carcass, and he was relieved no one brought it up. Exhaustion crept up his body, and he fought to keep himself standing. 

“Right, well, I should be leaving,” Dream hid a yawn, glancing around to see if anyone was coming his way, “hide that map. Discuss it at night.” with a final wave, he vanished on the spot, reappearing in his temporary room. 

He crashed into his bed straightaway, groaning as he felt the familiar fabric against his skin. Initially he was self-conscious that he was sleeping on a regular bed and his friends weren’t, but he kept it to himself. Shaking the thought away, he drifted off to sleep.

Despite knowing he’d be woken up in an hour or so, he remained adamant in his position. He’d bathe when he woke up the next time.


	11. More Complications Ensued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sdfojksd im so sorry for the late upload 🥺 i know i finished my homework and should hypothetically have a lot of time bUTT
> 
> BUT
> 
> i had training from my sports team today so yk- 😳👉👈
> 
> anyway i apologise for making a pun amidst the drama. you’ll see what i mean

Niki and Puffy passed Dream when they walked to their assigned room. 

It was probably about three in the afternoon when they were ushered to their feet, murmuring goodbyes to their friends as the men pulled them away. _Familiarise yourself with the place,_ Dream had told them, so they did. Their head made as little movement as possible as their eyes scanned their surroundings, trying to not get suspicious. 

Niki was busy memorising which hallway they should take that could lead them to the bottom floor when Puffy sharply nudged her from her side, and she turned to whine to her friend before noticing what she was nodding at. Directly adjacent to them, the familiar dirty blonde was walking behind a woman with striking hazel eyes hidden behind semi- opaque sunglasses. Niki’s eyes widened as she realised that Dream was covered in blood head to toe— whether it was his blood or others’, it didn’t look good on him either way. 

".. get yourself cleaned to prep for your next task," Niki heard the woman mutter, and she couldn't help but notice how he seemed to avoid their vision as they passed. Either that, or he completely ignored their existence. Niki arched her eyebrow and tilted her head a little in an attempt to catch his attention, but the blonde seemed oblivious, trailing behind the woman with his eyes downcast.

She glanced at Puffy and her friend shrugged, a sad look on her face. She’d ask Dream the next time they saw him.

———

He stalked through the busy crowd, easily blending in with the people. A woman waved to him, and he waved back with a gloved hand, not knowing who she was and why’d she greeted him. He quickly lost sight of her and continued onward. 

“‘Scuse me sir,” a man with a graying beard and a monocle approached him, “do you know where Mr Donnelly is?” he guffawed, “I’m afraid I’ve lost sight of him again.” 

Dream raised an eyebrow, swallowing, “I’m not sure, but I think I saw him walking past me in the left corridor,” he gestured to the stairway leading downstairs. The old man patted him on his back, “Thank you, kind sir.” the blonde turned to leave, but the man’s grip on him only tightened, and he froze in place. “Accompany dear old me to the washroom, wouldn’t you?”

His heart beated uncomfortably against his chest, and he took a deep breath, nodding, letting the man guide him to the nearest washroom. Dream closed the door behind him with a click, and the old man set his briefcase aside, pulling up the sleeves of his suit as he washed his hands, “So, which branch are you from?” he started, trying to make small talk. Dream leaned against the door, carefully piecing a mask of indifference on his face, “National Security Branch. Been looking for that runaway terrorist that escaped from our hands,” he sighed, looking at the man, “not much luck so far if you ask me.”

The old man nodded, placing his right hand under the soap dispenser as he cleaned his palm, “Interesting. How long have you been in the FBI?” the man questioned casually, turning the tap to rinse his hands. The blonde smirked, “A little more than three years. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?” the man stopped at the statement, turning to face Dream as he wiped his hands with the tissue paper he’d gotten, “I’ve been in the NSB for more than thirty years,” he grinned, and Dream felt his heart stop, “don’t think I’ve ever seen you around, kid.”

Before the old man could even move a single muscle, a knife had already stuck out on the other side of his heart, dead before he even hit the floor. Dream scoffed, unzipping the briefcase and rummaging through the numerous files and papers, stopping at a particular one. He kissed his teeth, smirking, and took the file. “Looks like your thirty years in the NSB didn’t do you any good,” he whispered, dusting the last of the evidence away. He carefully placed the corpse in a position close to the tainted window nearby, making it look like someone came through the frame and killed the man instead. With a satisfied smirk, he teleported away.

He appeared back at the facility, ignoring the beeping when he stepped into the threshold. This time it was Marcus and Julia waiting for him. Marcus had his hands clasped together in front of him as he lounged in the office chair, while Julia was busily hacking away in her laptop, “Back earlier than expected,”

“Yeah, turns out Donnelly’s a bitch,” Dream muttered, slapping the folder on the desk. Marcus went to retrieve it, “He knew who you were, didn’t he?” Dream glanced at him, undoing his tie and shrugging, “That doesn’t matter. He’s dead,”

Marcus laughed, flipping through the folder, “This is brilliant, Dream,” he could feel a smile forming on his lips, “this is more than enough information.” Marcus set the file down, turning to Dream with his legs crossed, “You should go rest up. Amazing work today,”

The words pierced through the blonde’s head like an arrow, and he rubbed his temples, frowning. _‘That was an amazing job, by the way,’_ the words echoed in his ears like an annoying ringtone. Both Julia and Marcus must’ve seen his expression change, and they tilted their head a little, confusion in their eyes, “Dream?”

He shook his head, smiling lightly, “I’m fine.”

The blonde grabbed his jacket and tie, swinging it over his shoulder, “I’m gonna head back. Knock if you need anything,” he nodded to the two, teleporting back to his room. The strange gleam in his eyes seemed to disappear, and he gasped, coughing and spluttering as he steadied himself. 

“What the fuck?” he breathed, running a hand over his face. A headache started to form, and he stifled a groan, massaging his temples. It was like his head had split into two, not able to decide which persona to keep up— “Wait,” he chuckled nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt as he loosened the first button, “wait, wait, wait,” he grabbed his knife from the pocket of his blazer, nicking the tip of his index finger as he watched a pinprick of blood ooze from the wound. 

He turned to the little sample set-up he had stolen from the lab, holding his trembling hand over a test tube as the blood dripped into the mouth of the bottle, corking it shut and placing the tube under the sampler. Dream sighed, wiping the cut clean and hastily slapping a bandaid on. He didn’t care if the cut reopened— that wasn’t important. 

He watched as the sampler whirred to life, pausing for a split second before neon blue lights flickered and shone itself over the blood sample. Dream anxiously drummed his fingers against the side of the mini-table against his bed— maybe he was just being paranoid about the entire ordeal? He bit his lip, hearing the sampler beep and the lights flickered off, the only illuminating source currently being the screen that showed the test results. His eyes wandered over to the digital monitor, analysing each sentence regarding his bloodstream and—

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, throwing himself on the bed. Something was wrong with him, and as much as it taunted him, his hypothesis was correct.

———

Shouts reverberated from the walls of the corridor, and a second later the two girls were being pushed back into the cell, their hair mussed and their clothing a little ripped. “Niki, oh— Puffy,” Fundy murmured, reaching out to them, “what did they put you through?”

“Nothing serious,” Niki assured as the men locked the cell doors behind them, “they wouldn’t dare hurt two innocent women.” she huffed, collapsing on the floor beside Wilbur, and the man hurriedly took off his coat, draping it over her. She smiled, thanking him. Bad frowned, tilting his head to the right, “How is that nothing serious? You two look like you fought an entire zombie apocalypse yourself.”

Puffy laughed, “I mean, you’re not half wrong. They _did_ make us fight some of their people. I think they were from another division of the facility,” she explained, grinning, “feels good to be kicking their asses.”

Sapnap smirked, “Let’s hope they put us together. That’d be awesome,” George gave him a look, and Sapnap realised what he had said, “Fighting, I mean. Testing doesn’t sound too good.” 

“How’s it going with the map?” Niki murmured, searching for the piece of paper. Karl handed it to her, his eyes twinkling, “We’ve almost got the entire route memorised,” he whispered excitedly, “but we’d need to find some landmarks. Y’know, in case we got lost or something.” 

Niki eyed the map, trailing her finger along the rectangular boxes she assumed were hallways and corridors, “We passed this junction here today, going to our room,” she rubbed her temples in hopes to jostle her memory, “number 214.” Puffy peeked over her, nodding when she recognised the marking, “And all the rooms on that floor started with the number 2,” she pointed out, “plus we didn’t go up or down any stairs, which means we are currently on the second floor.” 

“This is going brilliant so far,” Punz exclaimed, looking giddy, “I don’t think going through those tests scare me anymore,” Techno shook his head, smirking, “Don’t jump to conclusions when you haven’t done them yet. Who knows,” there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, “you might regret it.”

“Right, I’m gonna stop talking,” Punz replied smoothly, laying back against the wall. Fundy laughed with Niki and Puffy, much to the group’s amusement. 

Tubbo’s smile faltered suddenly, “Do you know who they’ll be taking tomorrow?” he glanced at his friends, all of whom looked worn out and not to mention— stinky. “It’s just.. Fundy and Techno are already hybrids, which makes it difficult for them to be altered,” he nodded at the two, “and Niki and Puffy are girls. No offense— but the facility said they were looking for men. A-And Tommy and I are young, and we’re not anything cross-bred,” he looked up, eyes glassy, “I’m just scared they’d be taking us next. And we’ll probably never return—”

“Tubbo, Tubbo,” Wilbur tried to comfort him, “if anything, they won’t be taking you. Look around us, we’ve got people ranging from fighters to bow wielders,” Wilbur suppressed a smile, “they could be taking any one of us, but they’re not taking you.”

Tommy sniffed, clearing his throat, “How would you know?” he mumbled, dipping his head, eyes downcast, “Dream was taken at a young age. Regardless of the law.” 

Before Wilbur had the chance to answer, Niki seemed to have something to say, as her eyes widened and she spluttered. George raised an eyebrow, “Niki?”

She sighed, biting her lip, “Puffy and I saw him while walking to our room today,” she started. Almost everyone could hear a sharp intake of breaths. Sapnap didn’t look too pleased to know where this was going, but let Niki continue anyway, “He was.. covered in blood. Not that he’s hurt or anything,” she hurriedly added, “but it looked like he went on a bloody massacre.” Niki hesitated to say the rest, so Puffy resumed the story, “He didn’t react to us, even when we signalled to him,” she fiddled with her fingers, “we’re just scared something happened to him.”

“He was walking behind this lady too,” Niki added tentatively, “hazel eyes. Sunglasses.”

Techno and Fundy made some unintelligible sounds, and the rest turned to them. “Well,” Fundy cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable with all the eyes on him, “she told us she was the supervisor of this division. Her word is above law here,” he explained, “don’t know how Dream could possibly link to her in any way.”

Bad hummed, “Did he say he’d come tonight?”

George’s lips parted, wanting to say something, but he closed it as he couldn’t properly formulate any sentence. Sapnap sighed, rubbing his neck, “He didn’t specify anything. For all we know, he could be dead—” George elbowed his ribs, “—or he could still be alive. Not dead.” George grumbled something under his breath but it wasn’t coherent enough.

“As much as I’d like to know Dream’s condition right now,” Quackity murmured, ending the awkward silence, “we’d also have to consider our problem at hand. One of us could turn out to be the next potential victim,” and Eret surprisingly nodded along with the Mexican, “It’s either one of us becomes a creation of their doing, because we don’t know if they’ll take back what they said,” they added, “or we could probably die under the ‘tests’ they’re having us do.”

“Whichever it may be,” Wilbur clasped his hands together, a grim look on his face, “all things considered, we’ve got a lot on our hands.”


	12. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> school started smh, so uploads might be around this time of day :( sdhfso iM SORRY THIS IS SHORT
> 
> i was listening to warriors- league of legends cover ft. edda hayes while writing the second half of the chapter. it,, kinda fits? 
> 
> also please read the following:
> 
> okay i know this is confusing-- bear with me. 
> 
> this au is a collision of both worlds. the facility is divided into three sectors, and each sector is split into divisions. each sector focuses on different things, kind of like how the FBI functions (NSB, Intelligence, etc). the facility's ultimate goal is to create the perfect killer to rid anyone that knows of its existence (which is A LOT, due to reasons i won’t specify). they're an anonymous company, unknown to the world, but national security forces suspect something. in order to start, they must get the basics on the biotechnological field (Andy's section). in the last chapter, a man by the last name of Donnelly was told to have possessed a particular file regarding the certain field, which is why the facility sent Dream after him. 
> 
> as of now the fbi/nsb interaction scene in the last chapter is kinda just a little add on. im not 100% following the flow of my original plot (as yall can tell) so its kinda just a jumbled mess made up on the way-
> 
> in conclusion, my writing sucks but i hope this makes everything clearer :’)

It’s been a total of 9 days since they’ve last seen daylight. Tubbo knew, because he’d been keeping count the day he’d woken up in the cell, eyes wide and trembling ever so pathetically, because he couldn’t protect his land. Because he let those men storm their place. Tubbo knew it wasn’t his fault at all, but partially put the blame on himself— he was vice president, and it was only reasonable that he was held accountable for the entire thing, too.

His friends would shake their heads, a smile on their face when he’d told them how he felt about being kidnapped, patting him on the back with a reassuring ‘it’s not your fault’ and that ‘everything would be alright’. He wanted to believe them, wanted to trust that they _will_ escape and they _will_ return to L’Manberg. But he couldn’t bring himself to be positive as he dragged his steps as he walked, his head hung low. From the corner of his eye he could see Tommy’s fingers tightened into a fist, slightly quivering. 

Tubbo remembered last night fondly, with Tommy ruffling his hair and draping an arm over his shoulders, whispering how they’d be free again. As everyone had finished their ‘simple tests’, Dream had visited them that night looking visibly worn out, but he waved it off and told them to execute their plan on the last day when they were ready. The group had instantly exploded in excited murmurs, with the dirty blonde shushing them with a smile on his face.

Tubbo had jinxed himself. 

They were just waiting for Dream to make the move when Julia came out of nowhere, pointing at Tommy and Tubbo as Zack and Marcus pulled them to their feet, unable to fully register what was happening. They were already out the cell when they acknowledged what had happened— they were taken in again. Tubbo swallowed, cursing under his breath as he felt a hot tear slip down his cheek, wiping it off with the collar of his shirt. What was happening? Why was it him? And Tommy?

The door opened and the oh so familiar silhouette greeted them. The supervisor— Madam Jones, he’d learned— stood there with her arms crossed in front of her chest talking rather animatedly with someone— “Dream?” Tubbo whispered, and the blonde turned his head to him, narrowing his multi-colored eyes as his eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to a side in a curious manner, “Do I know you?” his tone seemed a little hesitant. 

Tubbo felt his heart stop. Someone gripped his arm, and with a start he realised it was Tommy, who was shaking his head vigorously. Tubbo didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew for a fact that this— this wasn’t Dream. “This isn’t—” Tubbo stuttered, his eyes raking over the stranger that was standing ever so casually before him, “what did you do to him?”

“He is what he is currently,” Madam Jones scoffed, “our prized assassin.” her tone seemed almost mocking, “Hurry inside, Tubbo. You’re wasting my time.”

Tubbo couldn’t move his legs. He was frozen in place, disbelief overriding his features. Madam Jones sighed irritatedly, rolling her eyes and started over to him. He felt Tommy shift beside him and a second later, the blonde was standing in between the woman and himself, getting into a defensive stance, “You’re not hurting him.”

The supervisor snickered, a smirk on her lips, “Tommy, dear,” the sixteen year old stiffened as the woman approached him, “just a warm reminder that I’m the one in charge here, and you don’t get to choose.” she harshly pushed him aside as he was caught off guard, advancing towards Tubbo. “We’re only sixteen!” Tommy yelled, stopping her in her tracks, “Are you really that cold blooded? To experiment on two minors?” 

Tubbo saw some form of recognition flickering across Dream’s face. Initially he was unsure, then it switched back to his stoic expression, and then back to being hesitant. It was like the man was having a mental battle inside his head, and Tubbo couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “—number 4 is here, and he was already present since the tender age of 5,” the woman hissed in reply, as if that was a good rebuttal. Tommy laughed hysterically, “That is no excuse to pardon yourself. This— this entire facility,” he paused to catch his breath, “this place is bullshit!”

A quiet snicker escaped Tubbo’s lips. The woman fumed, “Number 4,” she turned to him, just as his expression seemed less conflicted, “get them inside the lab. I want the both of them to be tested on,”

“I can’t do that,” Dream muttered, “they’re minors. It’s against the law—”

“You _murder_ people!” Madam Jones exclaimed, exasperated, “You _work_ for us. You don’t take sides, but ours,” she held in her anger, shoving her hand into one of her pockets before pulling something out, and whatever it is, it made Dream visibly flinch, “if you don’t do as I say,” she growled, “you know what happens.”

Dream looked torn between listening to who. With a sigh, he dipped his head, muttering a ‘Sorry’. Tubbo’s eyes widened, and even Tommy seemed to be scared for once, “Dream, big D,” Tommy murmured, taking a step back with Tubbo, “you don’t mean it.” 

Firm hands gripped his shoulder, and he didn’t need to know Dream had chosen to follow her orders. He glanced at Tommy, a defeated look on his face. “You’re a great friend, Tubbo,” he mumbled, tilting his head the other side to avoid the brunette’s gaze, “I’m sorry it had to end like this.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Tubbo argued, as they stepped into the threshold of the lab, “we didn’t ask for this.” 

Tommy managed a smile, despite their situation right now.

“Right, enough talking,” Dream muttered, keeping a tight hold on their shoulder even though they had already entered the lab. Tommy tried writhing away from his grasp but the man was stronger than he was, and eventually the younger blonde stopped struggling. Tubbo released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. This was fine— it wasn’t entirely the end, but he may exit a different person.

 _”Stay close to me,”_ the hairs on the back of Tubbo’s hair stood on end. He glanced at Dream, who had a mask of indifference on his face, but he knew what the man was trying to do. “Leave them, number 4,” Madam Jones instructed, her head dipped as she was busy logging information into the system’s computer. Tommy tilted his head a little, “What are you planning?” 

Dream hummed, “They release a type of ‘sleeping gas’ called incapacitating agent to put their creations to sleep,” his eyes wandered to the one-way glass, “usually in small doses, but it’s enough to last a good two days before the victim wakes up.”

Tubbo’s eyes widened, understanding what the man was trying to accomplish. 

“Number 4,” Madam Jones’ voice echoed around the four walls of the laboratory, “did you not hear me? I said, ‘leave’.”

“Hold on tight and cover your nose, kids,” Dream muttered, and purple particles materialised from the tips of his fingers. Madam Jones’ eyes widened, and before she could move, twin blades shot through the mirror and through the material, effectively shattering the glass. She was _furious_ , by the looks of her. The gas had already started ejecting from the tubes on the ceiling, and Dream fought to teleport as soon as he could. “Come on,” it was risky, him being the only one out of the three to not cover his nose as the gas started lowering to the ground. Tubbo and Tommy watched, a panicked expression on their faces. Before Madam Jones’ men reached them though, they had already disappeared from sight.

———

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Sapnap ushered them as they left their hellhole, taking the blaring alarms as a sign to go. The group rushed through the hallways, changing direction at turns and choosing paths at junctions. “Stairs, up ahead!” Puffy warned as the group slid down a flight of stairs, taking another left as they neared their exit. “We’re so close, so close.” Quackity murmured, his fingers brushing against the walls. Escaping prison was on his bucket list, but fleeing the facility could make up for it. 

They took another couple of steps down the stairs, finally reaching the ground floor. The sound of footsteps nearby caused them to halt their movements, as scientists from other divisions thundered past them. “It’s number 4. Number 4 and those two teens— find them!” Eret heard one of them angrily mutter, running the opposite direction. As the hallways cleared, they moved again, this time picking up their pace. George instinctively set his palm on the smooth surface of the cool cement, trying to feel for the hidden door that stood between them and freedom. 

“—prisoners! They must’ve escaped, oh—” Techno’s ears picked up the noise from the other side of the wall, one of the few perks being a hybrid. He set his hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, urging the man to walk faster. “Dream, and Tommy and Tubbo. We can’t leave them,” Wilbur whispered, but Techno shook his head, “Dream can teleport. They’ll be fine,” he brushed past the man, now taking lead, “Hurry up.”

A sign that read ‘East Wing’ was nailed onto the wall in front of them, and they took a right according to the map. Sure enough, faded out glass panels came to view as they ventured forward, the acidic smell of rotten carcasses and chemical wastes wafting through their sense of smell. Fundy wrinkled his nose, not liking how strong the scent was for his hybrid snout. Karl’s head ducked in front of him, and he stopped to avoid crashing into the man. “Guys,” he breathed, a nervous gleam in his eyes, “I’ve found it.”

A faint click was heard, and the clash of metal against metal filled their ears, and the door opened. 

“You’d think they’d fully blocked out this door when Dream escaped the first time? Oh, no,” Punz mocked, stepping out last and closing the door firmly, breathing in fresh air for the first time in a week, “I’d never thought I’d say I missed the dirt.” Bad sighed, stretching his limbs to shake the ache off, “I’d never thought I’d say I missed the sky,” he paused, glancing around the abandoned garbage area, “say, where did Dream go?”

As if on cue, purple sparks fizzed and sparked in mid-air, before three familiar figures dropped onto the floor, with the two younger ones coughing and spluttering as they fought for breath. Niki bent down, trying to hold Tubbo in place, “What did you guys do?” she turned to Dream, her expression hinting a bit of panic, “Dream?” The blonde shook his head, holding an outstretched arm to steady Tommy, “Incapacitating agent,” he managed, his voice coming out a wheeze, “they covered their noses though. Should be the teleportation,” 

“Oh my god,” Tommy breathed, a laugh escaping his lips, “we actually did it. We actually escaped,” 

Dream sighed, “Not fully. When you two are done we need to get a move on,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes, “one more teleport. With all of you,”

“Are you sure?” Sapnap presses, noticing how his friend seemed to look like a walking zombie, “You look dead, dude.”

Dream waved him off, “I’ll be fine,” he helped Tommy to his feet and Niki to the other boy, “we good?” he asked, and everyone nodded. Dream cracked his knuckles, suppressing a nervous chuckle, “Alright, hold on to each other,” he instructed, setting his hand on Eret’s shoulder, “we’ll make it in one go. But I’ve never done teleportation with so many people before,” he murmured the last part. He shook himself, ridding the thought, “Okay, here we go,”

Purple particles emitted from his hands, and for a few moments, no one spoke or moved. He could hear the faint shouting of people from inside the building, and it wouldn’t be long until they caught up to them. “Come on,” he muttered, willing his powers to work, “come on, come on.”

“Dream—” he didn’t need Wilbur to finish that sentence. Footsteps sounded so awfully close, he thought they were gonna get captured again. “Number 4!” it was Zack, and he was standing at the threshold, his gaze locked onto Dream’s. The blonde instantly felt a sense of déjà vu, and before the scientist could reach them, they had already disappeared.

They appeared a few seconds later, landing exactly at the border of L’Manberg. “That was pog!” Tommy pumped his fists in the air, practically kissing the grass. Even Techno looked relieved to see the city of L’Manberg once again, a wistful look in his eyes. Dream released the breath he had been holding since he began formulating an escape plan in the lab. It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, no longer taunting him at the back of his mind. 

He was tired. Everyone was okay. He was exhausted. _But everyone’s safe._

He grinned idiotically to himself, before passing out instantly, for once finding the darkness comforting.


	13. Gut Instincts Suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i’m sorry to say that my uploading schedule *will* be irregular. i really like writing, and trust me, yalls comments are my motivation. but the thing is my school announced it’s reopening and we’ll be having mid-terms next week (obv i didn’t study lmao-) so i’ll be out for quite a while. i’ll try to write when i can, and don’t be surprised if you see an update out of nowhere lmao. 
> 
> but seriously guys, thanks for boosting my self-esteem

In all honesty, if you asked how Techno would’ve preferred to carry someone, the best and most obvious answer would be to drag them by their legs. Easy and effortless. But _no,_ because the majority of the people had told him to carry Dream instead. _Because you don’t go around lugging people by their fucking ankles._ Techno had scoffed at that. He was joking. Of course he was joking. Pfft.

He however, hadn’t expected Dream to be this light. It was almost like the man hadn’t eaten anything at all— not like he was excluding that possibility. He had to admit, Dream had done a lot for them, ranging from popping in at random intervals to planning an entire escape plan on the spot. He’d seen his face when he appeared at night, looking ever so tired— Techno had assumed it was due to his workload during the day, whatever it was— what he didn’t expect its cause was teleportation. 

Techno thought Dream’s powers didn’t have a limit to how much energy it would use, and that’s why he didn’t interfere with Dream’s decision when he said he’d teleport all fifteen of them away. He thought it was fine. _Well,_ his brain mocked, _hexed yourself, didn’t you?_ He shoved the annoying voice to the back of his head, continuing onward with the group of people trailing behind him. 

“This place looks so wrecked,” Tubbo murmured, brushing his fingers against the soil as they stepped through the entrance between the city centre and the border, “we’d have to clean up the mess.” he stepped over a dead body of a scientist that had been rotting here since they were captured, “It’d take us forever to dispose all these bodies,”

Wilbur thought for a few seconds, “Right, Niki and Puffy will head back with Techno and Dream,” he started, and George instantly snapped his neck in his direction, a bewildered look on his face, “We’re not leaving Dream,” he hissed, growing defensive, “he’s our friend and we—” Wilbur placed his hands forward in a placating manner, his eyebrow arched, “I know how much you guys want to stay with him, but we seriously need help fixing this mess,” he gestured to the bodies sprawled across the ground, “and we’ll need all the help we can get.”

George grumbled something under his breath, and Bad gave a nervous chuckle, “Don’t mind him. He’s just being whiney,” before George could retort, Bad continued, “but we’ll be staying here for quite a while,” 

“It’s all good,” Wilbur assured, “you guys are welcomed to L’Manberg anytime.” he turned around, scratching the back of his head as he eyed the fallen figures, sighing, “This is gonna be a long week.”

The girls waved goodbye to them before joining Techno walking down the path to the city’s centre. Fundy glanced at their backs, before looking upwards at the blazing sun, taking note that it was only around noon. He kicked a body nearest to him, blanching momentarily, “Where do we put these even? Burn them?”

“No,” Tubbo wrinkled his nose at the putrid scent the corpses were giving off, “we dump them in a hole. Preferably a bit further away from here.”

Quackity bit his lip, “That’s gonna be a problem guys,” he gave a cursory scan on the carcasses littered on the ground, “we’ve got twenty-ish people. And we still need to consider how long it would take to dig, move them, clean the blood on the properties—” he stopped, “we’re gonna be here for at least another six hours.”

Karl made a pouting face, “I desperately need to take a shower. Do you smell that?” he raised his arm and pushed his nose against his armpit, “that’s the smell of me not bathing for 10 days straight.” there was a quieter, ‘I’m sure the smell is from the corpses but okay,’ from Sapnap but Karl ignored him, “Don’t be a brat, Karl,” Punz chided, earning him a glare. “Alright— fine,” Karl relented, throwing his hands in the air exasperatedly, “but after this I’m taking a really long shower.”

———

“So you let them get away,” Andy sighed as he took off his glasses, rubbing the lenses, “Zack, do you want to get yourself fired?”

“No, sir,” he quipped quietly, “they were a step ahead. There was simply not enough time to reach them—” 

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Andy interrupted, placing his glasses back on, “Madam Jones won’t be up for another two days courtesy of the incapacitating agent,” he stood up from where he was previously sitting, “so I’m the one in charge now. You’re lucky you didn’t get dismissed right off the bat,” he paced around the room, a look of frustration, “I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself, Zack. Bring me Dream,” Zack stiffened, glancing at his boss, “or you get the consequences. You have until Madam Jones’ recovery,”

Zack swallowed, “Yes, sir.”

Andy sighed irritatedly, “I’ll give you access to gear and the men,” he bit out, “don’t fail me, Zack.”

“I won’t, sir,” the younger man promised, turning to exit the lab.

He released a breath he was holding. How had he let them get away? They were literally right there within reach, and yet Zack let them slip from his grasp. His strides were bigger with each passing thought, and soon he stopped and made a turn to room 109. Julia and Marcus met his gaze, “Oh, good lord. We thought you were dead,” 

“I’m too valuable to lose,” Zack muttered half-heartedly, plopping down beside Marcus, “New mission, capture Dream.” he tossed a folded piece of paper to Julia, who logged the password in from the information, “Level 3 Clearance,” she murmured as she typed, “What, Andy gave you perms to all this?”

Zack nodded mutely, “He didn’t give us access when we were hunting an entire civilisation,” he drawled, a mocking tone lacing his voice, “yet here we are, granted Level 3 Clearance, asked to capture a single person,” he huffed, glancing at the ceiling, “Why do you think he’s so desperate this time? He didn’t initiate a kidnapping when Dream first ran away a few years back,”

“Think about it, Zack,” Marcus murmured, not looking up from where he was going through file after file, “what alterations did we do when he was here?”

Zack’s expression blanked for a moment, before his eyes widened, “Oh. The serum,” he mumbled, cursing at how he could possibly forget, “they’re still in effect. That’s why Andy wanted me to get him back.” his eyebrows furrowed, “But I thought he was able to break through it?”

“Only temporarily,” Julia supplied, “the thing regains control really quick. That’s why Andy gave him the dose almost instantly.”

Zack stood up, instinctively walking over to the glorious shelves that contained jars of raw material, specifically for creating new formulas for experiments. His fingers brushed past the rows upon rows of glass, finally landing on a certain one. He tipped it forward, catching it as it fell into his hand, “Hey, Jules. Mind helping me brew a little something for our soon-to-be-here guest?” he raised an eyebrow suggestively, and Julia rolled her eyes, surrendering, “Alright. I know what you mean,” she chuckled, “been a while since I made it.”

Zack grinned, tossing the jar to her and Julia caught it in her hands, “Counting on ya,” he checked the time, calculating how long he had until Madam Jones woke up, “right, gotta go,”he casted a sideway glance to his friends, waving, “hopefully I’ll be back in two days alive.”

———

Dream woke up in cold sweat.

It was dark, just like his nightmares when—

 _”Don’t,”_ he muttered, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake himself awake. Everyone was probably still sleeping, judging by the sky. He looked out the window, peeking over the frame as he watched the stars twinkle, maybe winking at him. The moon was still out, but with the dim glow that brings the dawn approaching the horizon, he wouldn’t be sleeping again anytime soon. That, and partially due to his insomnia. He shook his head— negative thoughts aside, the worst of the worse was finally over.

He slowly slipped out of bed, gripping the walls for support as he got his trembling legs to stand. _What had gotten into him?_ “Walk,” he muttered to his legs, and he paced around the room to get himself functioning properly again. Maybe passing out wasn’t all that good. Sure, he was drained— fatigued, even— but admittedly that was the best sleep he had gotten in ages. He didn’t like it though, as he knew it would take a while to get himself working. 

Once he was sure he could move without tripping or falling, he made his way to the bathroom, splashing water on his face to get rid of the lingering sleepiness. For some reason his head pounded the moment he’d woken up. He had brushed it off as a headache, but it had been a good 20 minutes already. Dream was fairly positive this was a migraine, still, he ignored it, just like how he ignored his stomach growling. He could care less about the splitting headache. He could care less about the hunger. 

With a blink, he had already landed on the soft grass of L’Manberg. The chilly morning air lightly blew in the air, tickling his tousled blond locks. With his hands clasped behind his back, he ventured forward into the city, for once taking in the beauty of it. Dream never really wanted to take down this place, he’ll be blatant— he really liked how the city was decorated for special events. Even now, when the decor was taken down, he still didn’t know what made the city itself magnificent. 

Lights from hanging lamps dangled from their position on the pillars of houses as he trekked between homes, not caring which direction he was walking in particular. It was relaxing, to say the least, but somehow there was a nagging feeling sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He tried ignoring it, distracting himself with the scenery but it didn’t settle right with him. 

So, now he’s here, following his gut instinct with his knife held tightly in his hand. It probably wasn’t the best choice, with the throbbing pain in his head and how he had just woke up from passing out. That didn’t matter. 

As he stepped out of the city’s gates, he swore he felt his head split into two. The impact was so hard he dropped his blade, doubling over trying to ride the pain. “What the fuck?” he muttered, catching himself before he hit the ground. His heartbeat was accelerating, and the throbbing pain in his head now turned into stabs. 

Someone shifted from behind him, and Dream picked up his blade and twisted around just in time to be met face-to-face with a familiar face. “You—“ Dream managed, catching his breath, “why are you here?” he tried to sound threatening, but the faint quiver in his voice failed to do so. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Zack teased, his dagger locked with Dream’s knife, “I don’t remember the great Dream being so scared before,”

The stabbing sensation increased, and the blonde froze momentarily, clenching his teeth as he tried to speak through the pain, “Get away from L’Manberg,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes, “I’m done doing your dirty work. Get lost.” 

Zack easily disarmed Dream as the blonde bit out the last sentence, watching his blade clatter into the ground. He turned just in time as Zack’s dagger pointed straight to his throat, adding pressure to the weapon as the tip grazed his skin, “That’s not a choice, I’m afraid,” Zack murmured, “you see, you were completely oblivious to the fact that we had uh, altered your brain activity. Just a bit,” he smiled, but it was enough to make Dream take an involuntary step backwards. 

“Kill me,” the freckled man whispered, and he watched as Zack’s eyes widened slightly, tilting his head, “And why would I do that?”

“You’re threatening me now, aren’t you?” Dream pressed, “Finish the job. Kill me.” 

“In your—“ Zack cut himself off, holding back an irritated growl, “if you don’t shut up right now I’ll tranq you.” 

Dream rolled his eyes, “Oh, I’m so scared.” he deadpanned, feigning his fear. Zack’s grip on the hilt of his dagger tightened, and he pushed the blade deeper, drawing blood from the other man’s neck. The blonde’s eyes widened, feeling the warm blood trickle down his Adam’s apple and staining his hoodie, “You done talking?”

He didn’t get a chance to retort. Maybe it was a good thing, being tranqued, as his migraine seemed to fade and so did his vision. 

He really liked passing out under life-threatening circumstances, didn’t he?


	14. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually uploaded woah would you look at that  
> *pogs thru stress 🤠👍🏻*
> 
> 2.8k words bois

“Wh—” George stammered, his grip on his sword tightening, “What do you mean _he’s gone?”_

Puffy paced the room, a distraught expression on her face, “I don’t know! We— we left him there, on the bed. He was still unconscious then, and Niki and I left him alone to recover,” she stopped, turning to face the goggled man, “I’m sorry. He must’ve woken up at night to go get some fresh air,” she plopped down in a chair, burying her head in her arms. George sighed, ditching his weapon and sat down next to Puffy, “It’s not your fault,” he whispered, “Dream does have a knack of getting into trouble.”

Puffy raised her head, smiling a bit, “You’re damn right he does,” she huffed, trying to piece together what to say next, “Niki went to tell the others. I had a feeling you would come straight away, so I stayed,” her eyes were downcast, “I was right.”

George inclined his head, “I overreacted a bit,” he muttered, “we’ll wait for him to return, it doesn’t make sense for him not to. In the meantime,” George stood up, fixing the tinted glasses that sat on his head, “Wilbur and Techno are working on defence upgrades,” he grinned at Puffy, who only blinked in response. George chuckled, “Those people know where we are. And we’re about a day away from that place,” he explained, “it would be easy for them to find us again. They’re upgrading defence systems to keep them away.”

“That sounds great,” Puffy murmured half-heartedly, fiddling with her fingers, “I hope Dream comes back soon. It’s so out of character of him to leave without saying anything.” she stood up, fixing the wrinkles in her shirt, “Right, I’ll have to help out ‘round the bakery,” she suppressed a grin, “I’ll see you.”

George bade goodbye to Puffy as she left him to his thoughts. Why would Dream risk his safety venturing out at night? _Especially in his state,_ George’s mind reprimanded. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite place a finger on it. As he made his way down, he caught sight of Sapnap and Karl talking in hushed voices, their faces serious. 

“What’s going on?” he interrupted, startling the two. “Jeez, George,” Sapnap muttered, scratching the back of his neck, “give us a warning next time before you jumpscare us.” Karl nodded vehemently, “If I were holding a weapon you would’ve been dead.” George blinked at them, shrugging, “You’re just being a pussy, Snapmap,” he muttered matter-of-factly. Sapnap scowled at him, “Call me Snapmap again and we’re gonna have issues.” George ignored him, “So, what were you two talking about?”

He could see the hesitation in their eyes. “It’s Dream,” George’s heart stuttered in his chest as he urged Sapnap to continue, “we scouted along the borders, trying to see if anything happened there,” Karl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “we— we found blood. And his blade. Just there, no signs of struggle.”

George’s breathing caught in his throat, “What happened?” Neither of his friends responded, “Karl, Sapnap,” he practically spat out their names, “I said, ‘what happened’?”

“George, I—”

“There you guys are,” Fundy bounded over to them, but George noticed how his tail was low, nearly brushing the floor, “it’s confirmed. It’s his blood.”

George felt himself stiffen, and Fundy seemed to just realise that he was present, judging how his eyes widened comically and how his mouth hung open for a split second. Karl tried to speak, but George held a hand in front of him, “I just— I need a moment,” 

Sapnap sighed, “George,” his voice wasn’t commanding or angry, it was gentle, soothing even, “we still don’t know what happened. We wanted to keep this to ourselves a little longer to fully understand the scene,” he ran a hand through his hair, “it’s alright. He’s Dream, he’s gonna be okay.” George however didn’t miss the barely audible ‘I hope’ Sapnap had muttered under his breath. 

“Yeah,” he finally mumbled, “yeah, okay. I understand,” he took a deep breath, “just update me on your findings, yeah?” he watched as Sapnap dipped his head, “I’ll make sure to do that.”

George excused himself from the group as he tried to think. Dream wasn’t as safe as he’d initially thought. _”Who am I kidding?”_ he chuckled under his breath— in the words of Sapnap, _he’s Dream._ Trouble always finds him. 

There was something missing from the equation, and he replayed the events again and again in his mind. His legs had absently carried him to the West side of L’Manberg, but he didn’t take notice, instead he suddenly remembered him telling Puffy about the entire defence upgrade thing.

His eyes widened as he realised the missing number in the question.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, willing his legs to move faster as he retraced his steps back to the city. 

He had a feeling he was correct.

———

Dream woke up to blinding lights. 

“What the fuck,” he muttered, acknowledging the headache forming in his head, “who sets their lights to maximum?” He blinked blearily at first, peeking under his eyelids to have a glimpse of his surroundings. Obviously he wasn’t in L’Manberg. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near the place, actually, which only made the case worse for him. 

“Finally,” he heard a familiar someone murmur, slapping a file on the desk before him, and Dream looked up to see Marcus sitting in front of him, legs crossed as he lounged in the office chair, “thought you were dead or something.”

Dream scowled, making an attempt to move but he realised his arms were bound behind him, completely securing him in place. He bit his lip, “You guys really stooped so low as to tranq and kidnap a person when they’re weak?” he scoffed, trying to hide his rising fear, “Dirty tactic, coming from you.” 

“Your comments really touch me,” Marcus grinned, tilting his head, “unfortunately we’re not recruiting critics, so you can keep your opinions to yourself.” he got up, taking slow strides around Dream, observing. Uncomfortable was an understatement at this point— it unnerved him to be watched like a caged animal. 

He heard a sigh escape Marcus’ lips, “So the serum finally wore off,” he started, and Dream visibly tensed at his statement, “don’t worry though. We made a new, improved batch,” he added smoothly, rummaging through the pocket in his lab coat and pulling out a syringe. The blonde flinched at the sight of it, his eyes widening, “Get whatever the fuck that is away from me.” 

“Did you know originally, it was made for the failed creations?” Marcus ignored him, instead proposing a question, “They were disobedient. Felt like they weren’t obligated to listen to us. So we made this,” he slightly pushed the syringe experimentally as a few drops of the liquid dripped from the tip, “to control their way of thinking.” 

Dream tried to shut him off, closing his eyes as he gradually processed the information. _I let them put that in me,_ his mind echoed, _I let them use me._ He didn’t like how that worked out— it was draining to fight the splitting headache. 

“Rest assured, we won’t be using that,” he set the syringe down, a good distance away from Dream, “yet.” he added, “We’re going for a change of methods,” his smile was daunting, “personally, I think you’d be better off that way.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Dream blurted out, catching the man off guard, “You— you weren’t like this. All of you weren’t like this. Before I ran away,”

Marcus seemed to ponder at the answer, but his face remained stoic, his eyes narrowed, “Things change, Dream,” his fingers grazed the cover of the file on the desk, “you rebelled. Ran away. _I rebelled,_ trying to keep you safe,” his steely gaze dropped, “because you were only a child. A child with burdens not even an adult could carry,” Marcus’ cold glare met Dream’s eyes, “I guess I took pity on you. Look where that got me now.” 

“Marcus, you don’t have to—“

“I _need to_ , Dream.” he interrupted, “this is my job. And I’m not letting some 21 year old take that away from me.” he deadpanned, his demeanour growing defensive, “We were too easy on you when you returned,” he admitted, but his fist was clenched, “let you run away again. Zack almost got fired,” Marcus now had a grin on his face, a sadistic gleam to his eyes, “which is why you won’t be leaving this place.”

Before Dream could even ask, he felt someone covering his eyes, temporarily blinding him as another person pulled him away. They weren’t letting him catch anything concerning his surroundings. They really didn’t want him escaping. 

He stopped moving. The fingers left his face. He opened his eyes and— “Fuck,” he muttered. Everything was dark. He tried moving his arms, noticing how his captors seemed to have released him from the bindings. He tried to feel for a wall, or something solid, and once did he stand on his toes could he touch the ceiling. By the texture of it, Dream could deduce it wasn’t glass, nor any transparent material. _Alright,_ his brain thought, _so this room is about my height._ He tried reaching forward, attempting to make out the vague trace of the width. He moved a few steps forward, and his fingers brushed the smooth surface of the barrier. “You’re kidding,” he muttered, pressing his body against it, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” Opaque, solid walls were encasing him within it. By his cursory analysis, the room— no, practically a _box—_ was only around 2 metres in width, length _and_ height. 

“We’re not kidding,” Marcus’ voice answered his rhetorical question, and Dream kicked the wall in reply. “A dark, enclosed room. You and I both know, Dream,” Marcus drawled, his tone casual, “that this isn’t going to end well.” Dream sat back down on the floor, running a hand through his hair. The walls were incredibly sturdy, so breaking them down was definitely not an option. The only door in this room had been sealed shut, too, so lock picking was out. “You can try all you want, but I guarantee you won’t be escaping.”

Purple particles sparked, fizzing on his fingertips. It was, quite pathetically, the only source of light at the moment, but it didn’t do as much, emitting a soft glow at most. They seemed to fade in and out momentarily, and Dream concluded that this place was ability-proof as well. “Well, fuck,” he mumbled angrily, and he swore he heard someone laugh from the other side. 

Marcus had muttered a quiet, ‘ma’am’, and Dream leaned against the wall, sighing. He knew who the person was, and it didn’t make him feel any better with their presence. “Honestly, how naive can you be?” Madam Jones deadpanned, and Dream swallowed, biting his lip to stop himself from retorting, “Proceed, Williams.” she murmured, and Marcus excused himself. Dream could hear the clicking of heels as Madam Jones walked, “I wonder how long it would take for you to snap,” she whispered, and Dream tensed, “we were getting tired of you breaking through the barriers.”

Dream gritted his teeth, “Obviously your serums aren’t strong enough,” he bit out, “maybe consider giving me an extra dose and we’ll see.”

“Still being snarky despite being completely trapped,” Madam Jones noted, “you do know your fate is in our hands right now? One wrong move and you could possibly die,”

Dream laughed, laced with hysteria, “Now that,” he paused to catch his breath, “that is bullshit. You won’t kill me,” his voice dropped into a low whisper, but he knew the supervisor was listening, “because you _can’t.”_ he shifted to a more comfortable sitting position, “You _need_ me. _I_ do all your dirty work.”

There was a moment of silence, before the clicking of heels started again, this time accompanied by the woman’s snickers. “Are you _threatening_ me, number 4?” her tone was soft, low, but with it brought an overwhelming feeling that raised red flags, “You’re right, I won’t be killing you,” she started, sounding nonchalant, “I’ll do things much, _much worse.”_

The clicking stopped. Everything went eerily quiet. Dream could hear his heart thudding loudly against his chest as he shuffled his legs. “Hello?” he asked tentatively. No one answered. Nothing. He waited, seconds? No— it was longer than that? Had it been hours? He didn’t know. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he was sure the tight room was slowly swallowing him, advancing on him; was that normal? 

Bringing his arms forward, he tried creating the reassuring glow from his fingertips again. “No,” he muttered; nothing appeared, not even a single spark. He tried moving to rid himself of the thoughts, feeling for the wall. “Ow,” he grimaced, quickly retracting his arm to find warm liquid spewing from his palm. “What the—?” Carefully, he traced the smooth surface again, surprise filling his features as he noted the significantly sharper object protruding from the cement. _Alright,_ he sighed inwardly, _moving is a no, then._

Sweat dripped from his forehead and he realised it was getting fairly hot in there. Perspiration slid downwards to his neck, running down his back and staining his hoodie with it. He stifled a quiet groan, taking the hem of the fabric to wipe the lather off his face. Sweat and blood covered his hand, and he didn’t know how to perceive his current condition. He felt so vulnerable, so utterly exposed. It didn’t sit well with him.

 _Was this their way of making him succumb to them?_ his clouded mind thought, _sensory deprivation?_

It was so _hot,_ so _dark_ ; so.. _suffocating_.

This was even worse than drowning. How much time even passed? Had it only been an hour, most? Dream didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. 

_Sleeping,_ he thought, _sleeping sounds good._

He tried closing his eyes, taking deep breaths to steady his uneven breathing. The moment he entered his mind, he wished he had just stayed awake. _Of course,_ he berated himself, _nightmares._ They taunted him, plagued his dreams with things that haunted him. _Reliving them, he was reliving them._ Maybe his body was too tired to obey his orders as he fought the sleepiness that pressed down against his consciousness. He wanted to wake up. _Please,_ his mind whispered, _wake up._

His friends— his friends were there. _They’re not,_ his brain warned him, _they’re not real._ He ignored the voice, focusing on his friends’ faces. They were blurred, out of focus, but it gave him a temporary reassurance. Then there was the changing point— their appearances become distorted. Fingers, pointing at him. Insults being thrown around. Anger rolling off them in waves. They were loud. Ringing. Echoing.

It was probably around five hours later did he break through the fogginess of his brain. Moisture formed on his face, and he really didn’t want to figure out whether it was tears, sweat or blood. Dream knew his eyes were wide opened, but— but _why was it still so dark?_ He’d just realised this place held a daunting similarity to his nightmares— dark walls, suffocating heat. His heart hadn’t stopped beating painfully in his chest, and there was a growing headache forming. 

Was he still dreaming?

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. He didn’t want to know. Thinking about it hurt his brain. Was it normal? _No._

Fingers. Jabbing at him, faces twisted into expressions of disgust, hate. _Ouch._ “You’re a monster.” Red. Was it blood? _Monster? Me?_ It was blurring. They were blurring. “You killed them. You killed your family.” _Did he?_ Maybe he did. His hand was stained with blood anyway. Was the blood his family’s? “Get away from us!” he flinched away. But wasn’t he protecting them? _Why was he protecting them? They’re safe—_ “You bring danger to us. Get out. Fuck off.” _Why did it hurt, coming from them?_ “I’m— I’m hallucinating. Tell me I’m hallucinating.”

Of course there was no answer. It was probably just another nightmare. 

_But why did everything feel so real?_ He could still detect the dried up blood on his hand, the sweat in his messy hair. His throat was sore. Why was it sore?

He hated it here. _Get me out,_ he pleaded, _get me out._


	15. New Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i’ll update every two days idk

“This report is complete trash. Redo it.” a man with gray eyes threw the clipped reports down on the desk in front of him, an annoyed look on his face, “It’s been well over a week since Michael’s abrupt death, and yet _you,_ the head of the _Intelligence Branch,”_ he spat out the title as if it were dirt, “can’t find a single lead to how it happened?” he whispered incredulously.

Another man with black hair and tanned skin dipped his head, his expression unreadable as he stood before his boss’ desk, “I apologise, sir.” he grabbed the papers from the table, hugging it close to his chest, “The thing is, the murder was too clean. Too clean to be a windowside murder.” he adjusted his tie, clearing his throat. The man behind the office desk clasped his hands together, arching an eyebrow to signal him to continue. “From what we can currently gather, we think someone killed Mr Donnelly in the bathroom and positioned his body near the window to make us think otherwise,”

The boss of the ravenette leaned backwards against his chair, his eyebrows furrowed to show he was thinking, “Alright, Travis,” the man straightened himself at his name being called, “tell me, what is Michael known for?” Travis tilted his head to the right, “He’s a legend at making breakthroughs in the most unsolvable cases,” he started. His boss crossed his arms in front of him, “Right, and what was his most famous one?”

“Solving the Ross Walker case,” Travis replied instantly, “he found puncture wounds oddly similar to a dental drill on victims’ body, and test reports have stated that there were traces of sawed down enamel,” he held in his shiver, “turns out there was only one dental clinic in the neighbourhood. Ross was arrested right away,” Travis’ eyes lit up, snapping his fingers, “Mr Donnelly specialised in the biotech field. The mechanics file was nowhere to be found since he died.”

His boss grinned, clapping his hands together, “Took you long enough, Lewis,” he stood up, “linked to Michael’s death, were the missing files. As you may know, our agents who focus on the biotechnical field somehow mysteriously die or disappear,” the man murmured, “the enemy is targeting them. Our biotechnists.” he raised an eyebrow, “You get where this is going, right?” Travis nodded.

“Now we have a lead to two cases. Once you’ve closed Michael Donnelly’s case, go work on our anonymous enemy.” Travis ducked his head, signalling he understood, “will do, sir. I’ll update the current information we have on the enemy as soon as possible.”

The gray-eyed man dipped his head in reply, “Don’t disappoint me.”

Travis smiled, mock-saluting, “I can try.”

———

Techno walked along the border of L’Manberg, satisfied with his work. With the help of Punz, who was surprisingly good at potions, they had successfully set up a defence barrier that required blood confirmation— if it doesn’t recognise your blood type when you walk through the barrier, you’ll be electrified. Quackity said it was a good idea, Techno however thought they could raise the voltage to a higher degree. Quackity and Punz had stared at him with a frown on their faces, “People could potentially die.”

“Don’t we all?” he muttered, and the two raised their eyebrows at him. “I mean uh, eventually.” Techno was pretty positive that the both of them still looked at him with caution until now. He chuckled to himself at the thought. 

“Wonder who else hasn't set their blood confirmation yet,” Bad murmured next to him, ticking off some names in the checklist he was holding. Techno hummed to himself, “Puffy and George. Dream too.” he finished off the patrol at the East side of L’Manberg, taking a sharp turn to head back to the city. “Oh, I don’t think we can set Dream’s yet,” Bad mumbled, and Techno sniffed, “Why? Is he still not awake?” Bad stopped dead in his tracks, and Techno paused with him, “You— you didn’t hear?”

Techno frowned, “Hear what? What happened?” he faced the dark skinned man, “Bad?” 

Bad sighed, looking away from the hybrid, “Dream, he’s gone missing. I thought everyone in the city knew by now. Eret had confirmed the blood they found while scouting the border belonged to him.”

Techno tilted his head to a side, “No signs of struggle?” Bad shook his head, and Techno grunted, “Seems unlikely of him to go down without a fight.” 

Bad bit his lip, nodding along with Techno’s statement, “Everything just seems off. He wouldn’t have gone to the edge of the border without reason— he had just recovered from overusing his powers. He should’ve been tired—”

“Unless someone or somethin’ told him to go there,” Techno interrupted, cutting Bad off, “plus, he’s the one who could teleport. If he wasn’t drugged or somethin’ like that, I say he’d make it out no matter what.” Bad seemed to contemplate his answer, “You’re right. Something— something doesn’t make sense here,” the gears in his brain whirred, trying to come up with a possibility. Techno sighed, taking a few steps forward, “It’s no use thinkin’ out here. Let’s go,”

They walked the remaining path with hanging trepidation, unsure what news awaits them once they stepped into the bustling city centre. 

“Guys,” Techno turned to see Sapnap briskly walk over to them, a grim look on his face, “we discovered something else. Well— technically George did— but we found something new nonetheless,” he beckoned them to follow him, turning and bounding up towards the community house. 

“— disappeared before the defences were set,” George was saying, his voice slightly quivering, “think about it. Dream wouldn’t just intentionally walk out of L’Manberg’s walls for no reason.” Techno smirked, stepping into the room. All eyes turned to him at once, and the blood god tilted his head, “That’s what I’ve been sayin’ to Bad when we were patrollin’,” he murmured, walking over to stand beside George, “I know Dream; he wouldn’t do anything to risk his safety if it weren’t a hazard to us.”

George nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Exactly what I was saying. And right now, there could only be two possibilities,” he paused, scanning the people before him, “it’s either he was fighting mobs, or someone from the facility came.” 

There was an obvious sharp intake of breaths, “I think the latter seemed more realistic. If Dream were to fight mobs, there would be more hints of brawling in the area,” Quackity said, his head inclined in a thinking position, “plus he’d definitely win.”

Sapnap chuckled at that, “Damn right,” he muttered. 

“But how?” Niki mumbled, “The facility’s bound to be a day’s journey to where we are. It’s impossible for them to reach us,” 

Wilbur cleared his throat, “Not if they leave immediately after the explosion of the incapacitating agents,” he nodded to Tubbo, who spoke up next, “Madam Jones is out of the equation. She was hit with the gas. She’s probably awake a little while ago, which leaves her most trusted people,” he tried to recall their names in his head, “Julia, Marcus or Zack. I’m excluding Andy out of it because man can’t even raise a sword.” a few snickered at that. 

“Right, we won’t be deciding who it could be yet,” Punz started, “because up until now, we can all agree that the facility had taken us by surprise.” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Dream is their weapon. There’s the possibility they could’ve done something to him already,” the room went quiet, “but I’m not giving up on him. He’s done a lot for us,” he raised his head to meet everyone’s gazes, “It’ll be too rash of us to just barge in there without a plan. We could be caught again.” 

Eret hummed in response, “I reckon the back door should be locked after we’ve escaped, so there’s no use entering through there.” they pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill they kept with them by their side, “Punz’s right, we need to plot down a route if we’re gonna get Dream back.” 

There were shouts of approval, determined looks on their faces. Bad smiled despite his friend being in a possibly dangerous situation— they would get him back. 

———

“How long?” Andy muttered, taking a sip of his coffee as he entered the room. A black box stood in the middle, and the bespectacled man had already known what or who was in there. “36 hours,” Julia murmured from where she was eyeing the screen, “I think he’s starting to go insane.” 

Andy waved her off, “It’s fine,” he glanced around the control room, his eyes landing on a mysterious liquid that sparkled under the dim lighting, “what’s that?”

Julia took her eyes off the screen, arching an eyebrow, “Oh, that. Stabilising serum, y’know just in case we let him out and he goes feral on us,” she winked, “Zack had me make it when he went out.” 

Andy nodded slowly, taking another sip of his coffee, “Sounds good,” he looked at the screen once again, narrowing his eyes as he observed the movement of the person inside the black box, “give him another six hours. We’ll see how he gets and decide later on,” Julia nodded, scribbling down the notes and Andy excused himself. 

He strolled through the hallway, his brain automatically directing him to his designated room. “Andy,” Marcus greeted, and the middle-aged man inclined his head in acknowledgement, “I was looking for you,” Andy murmured, swirling the coffee in his hand, “inform security we may be having company. Block all windows and exits that we don’t use,” Marcus dipped his head, typing away on the computer to reach the security division. Andy drank the last of his coffee before disposing the cup in the nearest trash can, “Brief Zack on what we did. Julia should tell you the details later.” 

Marcus nodded and Andy left the room. 

———

He’d expected his hands to bleed when he tried punching the wall. It was an obvious futile attempt, and in the haze of pain he seemed to vaguely remember he’d said the walls were unbreakable. Why did he punch the walls again? No matter what he did, they kept _insulting_ him. It was getting on his nerves— what did he do wrong? He had been apologising profusely to them. He even told them he’d be good; he’ll be obedient. They wouldn’t let him go. Kept shouting at him. His head hurt. 

He could memorise the words by now. The insults had been on repeat anyway. It was either _you’re a monster_ or _you’re hurting us!_ and to be frank he didn’t know how to react to that. What did he do? He had been reiterating the question to them over and over again, but they seemed to ignore him, skipping over his pleads and begs as they continued to yell at him, screaming how he was a psychopath and how he had brought hell on them. He’d sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. _Why is this happening? Tell me what I did. I’m sorry. I’m sorry._

“Save your apologies,” someone— _who was he again?_ — spat at his face, “we’re done with you. A quick and painless death would be far too good for what you’ve done.” they wore a beanie, curly brown hair and a yellow sweater. He couldn’t remember who he was. He was instantly brought out of his memories with a sharp sting to his face. _He was slapped._ His mouth hung open in shock as he processed what had happened. The man with the curly hair had _slapped_ him. It was probably the most realistic thing he had felt since being isolated. 

Someone scoffed next to the man, and he could see something sharp glinting from behind the person, “Honestly, a slap? You really think that would do anything?” they reprimanded the man with the yellow sweater, and he shrugged, stepping back. The person with the knife grinned at him, teeth showing, and he shrank backwards, hating how vulnerable he looked right now, “Right, let’s see how much pain you could take, yeah?” his vision went red as all he could see was _blood blood blood_ and all he could feel was _pain pain pain_ and oh _god_ he could feel the knife in his skin _cold cold cold_ and he was bleeding _red red red_.

His screams went unheard as the stabbing continued. People looked down at him, laughing, jeering. They were _happy_ , happy that he was in pain. Happy that he was begging to stop. No one helped him. _No one._ A memory resurfaced, and he could finally make out who the people were. _They were his friends,_ and they were _laughing at him._

He had tried reasoning with them. _They didn’t care._ He had tried begging them. _They ignored him._ He had been withstanding the pain they had inflicted on him. _They stood aside with their arms crossed._ He had hung on to that little hope that this was all a nightmare. _They seemed to be never ending._

He decided he hated them. _If I die, you all die with me._

———

“How’s everything going?” Andy yawned, rubbing his eyes as he finished off the last of his paperwork. It had been well over three days, and he hadn’t checked up on his three younger subordinates for quite a while. Zack glanced back at him, a smirk on his lips. Despite the bags that hung under his eyes, Zack was looking exceptionally giddy, “Everything’s going exactly the way we wanted,” he whispered, a chuckle escaping him. Andy cocked his head to a side, urging the brunette to show him what they had accomplished. 

Zack led the way to a different room, and once Andy had stepped into the threshold he knew what the younger male had meant. Everything had been absolute shit for him the past week, but this— this made everything look so much better. He couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. He hadn’t genuinely smiled for so long— this was something truly phenomenal. 

“And you’re positive he won’t turn on us?” Andy murmured, in awe. Zack laughed, shaking his head, “Affirmative. He’ll actually need long-term therapy for him to be able to recuperate. But we won’t be needing that,” Zack’s voice dropped into a low whisper, crossing his arms in front of him proudly. He slowly approached the boy sitting in front of him, eyes wide with amusement. The boy had instantly gone into a combative posture, glaring at Andy, “Threat?”

Zack shook his head, “No, no threat. He’s one of us.” the boy nodded rather hesitantly, and sat back down. Andy observed him, noticing how there were bandages all over his body, “You guys cleaned him up?” Zack nodded vehemently, “He’d inflicted wounds upon himself. I don’t know how, but we got him fixed up eventually.” 

Andy stepped back and stood with Zack, grinning a genuine grin, “Brilliant. Actually brilliant.” 

Zack smirked, his arm outstretched in a welcome gesture as he opened his lips to speak, “Introducing: Nightmare.”


	16. "No way to get in? The sewers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe that im here posting this instead of studying for my chinese exam tomorrow 
> 
> yes, yes you can
> 
> anyway here you go y'all
> 
> (the comments make me smile, just know that y'all make my day)

Wilbur sighed as he leaned back against his chair in his room, hands clasped together in front of him as his legs were propped up on his desk. He glanced at his younger brother who was fast asleep on the couch beside him, soft snores in the air. The brunette managed a smile, remembering to tease Tommy about it when he woke up. He was incredibly protective of his brother— despite always getting into disagreements that led to arguments with him. Tommy was just being stubborn, and Wilbur swore the blonde knew that as well. 

His eyes travelled to the rest of the room, giving a cursory scan as his mind slowly wandered off. The last time he had been here was when Karl brought those— Wilbur bit his lip— three strangers in. He had directly risked the safety of his friends. They wouldn’t let him admit that, but Wilbur knew it was entirely his fault. 

He looked sideways, eyeing the scrapped up pieces of paper littered around the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose— he’d have to pick them up later. Wilbur straightened himself, rubbing his temple with two fingers as his other hand flipped through the half- finished plans. They had based their newly sketched map on the roughly drawn one Dream had given them during their horrendous stay in the cell. Wilbur gave an involuntary shudder, pushing the thought away. Instead, his fingers brushed past the junction where they had stopped plotting. 

He huffed, taking off his beanie and running a hand through his untamed curly hair in an attempt to shake his weariness off. Even though it was currently 3 in the morning, he couldn’t quite bring himself to go to bed. Thoughts were constantly in his head and Wilbur didn’t know how to interpret them— he feared for L’Manberg’s safety, feared for his citizens’ safety, and feared for his friends’ safety. There was so much to consider, but so little time. Despite having already set up a blood ward around the city, Wilbur still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right— like someone could be attacked right away and he wouldn’t know. 

“No,” he muttered, huffing, “defences are upgraded. Everything’s fine, Will,” he assured himself, shoving the sinking feeling away. He would deal with the guilt of not attending to it soon, but for now, he decided, _he would finish up the floor plan of the second floor._

So for the next hour and a half, Wilbur had spent his sweet time roughly sketching the hallways and corridors of the second floor. Once he was sure that the map matched the descriptions in reality, he gave a satisfied grin and proceeded to outline over the base sketch to give a clearer outcome of the drawing. The moon still glowed above him when he was done, and as Wilbur set down his pen, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of calmness settling the previously stressed ambience. 

His footsteps thudded against the pavement as he’d decided for a little walk in the city. He’ll admit— if the reason Dream had wandered out of the city’s walls because of its mesmerising beauty, he couldn’t blame the blonde. Dawn was the best time, though he would’ve never known if it weren’t for one of the many occasions he’d stay up late enough to watch the sunrise. 

The moon had vanished when Wilbur arrived at the borders of L’Manberg. He could faintly make out the shimmering outline of the ward they had placed on the city, marking its territory as a threat to strangers. The brightening horizon dimly signals its arrival to the land, and Wilbur watched as the stars winked at him once, twice— before retiring with the moon. 

Everything seemed so peaceful, so quiet that he’d nearly missed a sharp object protruding from the dirt. He stumbled on his legs, catching himself as he almost fell. Wilbur scowled, turning his head back to see what had tripped him when—

He narrowed his chocolate brown eyes, squinting at the object that glinted under the morning sun. With a gloved hand, he picked the object up. “What the fuck?” his eyes widened when he realised what it was. He pressed his lips into a thin line, holding the thing by the needle, and turned to trek back to the city centre, bringing crucial information. 

———

“So it’s a tranquiliser?” Fundy heard Eret say as he inspected the fragile object with his nimble fingers, his ears flattening at the sight. It was obviously used, with how the top of the syringe was pushed downwards and how there weren’t any liquid present in the glass container. “Yes. Say, Will, where did you find it again?” the fox asked, turning the object over in his hand. 

Wilbur shook himself, trying to stay awake, “Right at the edge of the blood ward. It was nearer to the forest than to L’Manberg’s walls though,” he added the last sentence as an afterthought, “I think Dream’s captor must’ve left it when they were leaving.” Sapnap frowned, tilting his head, “It’s quite uncommon for them to be using tranquiliser darts instead of just simply drugging someone,” he noted, “there was also blood, so if they had used a tranquiliser, why would there be blood?” 

Punz remained quiet for a while, speaking up shortly after, “You think there’s a better reason behind why they had captured Dream?” he murmured, more to Sapnap than to the others in the room, “I mean, I get it, Dream’s their number 1 on the list for escaping them twice _and_ busting out 14 of us,” the blonde stopped, trying to properly form a sentence with the jumbled state of mind he’s in, “personally, I’d thought they wait a little longer before striking.” 

Karl shrugged, a dorky grin breaking out across his face, “I guess they were desperate. But why,” he mumbled, “why would they be _just_ targeting Dream? Surely they’d have a couple others waiting to be tested and turned into an assassin too. Like how they were planning with Tubbo and Tommy.” 

The brunette made a point. The room went silent as their brains worked towards the answer. Puffy snapped her fingers, “Remember what Andy said, when they took Dream?” she jostled their minds, “he said the creations kept failing since Dream left. None of them were as perfect as they had moulded him into,” she cringed a little when she said that, not liking how awful that sounded, “and they must’ve done something to him during our stay. I guess we weren’t lingering long enough to fully know what was going on with him.” 

Quackity hummed in approval, “We were too caught up with fixing up L’Manberg. When we aren’t, we were too focused on getting him back rather than understanding why he was captured the first place,” the mexican set his palms on the table, his shoulders hunched over as he looked up and met everyone’s eyes, “They could be doing anything to him now that we’re out of the way.” 

“He was covered in blood,” Niki spoke up, adding stress to the already tensed atmosphere, “I- I swore to ask him if I saw him again. It had completely slipped my mind,” she fiddled with her fingers awkwardly, biting her lip, “They had already done something to him even when we’re there. He looked like he went on a killing spree,” she swallowed the lump in her throat, tears pricking at her eyes, “I’m sorry— I just- I..” she trailed off, not knowing what to say, “He could’ve been an entirely different person already and yet we didn’t notice.” 

The two formerly silent boys suddenly perked up, their gazes meeting each others’ as they quietly conversed with their eyes. Techno tapped his foot impatiently, “Tommy?” 

Said boy looked up, locking his vision with his brother’s blood red irises, “He was— struggling with something. Like it’s going on inside his head,” he glanced at Tubbo, who prompted him to continue, “well, shock was an understatement when we first saw him and he didn’t recognise us— at all,” he recounted the moment, vaguely remembering how terrifying it was to have the dirty blonde glare at him with unfamiliarity, “It’s like he was lost, and when Jones told him to kill us, he looked like he was obligated to listen to her. He broke out of his trance though,” he quickly added, “and teleported us out before we were hit with the incapacitating agent.” 

George rubbed his face tiredly, “This doesn’t look good, does it?” Bad shook his head beside him, “Muffin, no. We could go out there and try to get him back, yes,” he murmured, “but he could _also,_ y’know,” he made a gesture that looked like a mixture between a shrug and a grimace, “kill us all before we could even register it, knowing him.” 

“So we either get him back and risk all of us being killed, or we fully plan out what we’re gonna do and then get him.” Eret stated their options, “I’m more keen on not dying.” Snickers echoed around the room, and Eret smiled, knowing that they had successfully lightened up the mood. “Right— Wilbur,” the Brit perked up at his name being called, “the map. How are we doing?”

The brunette took out a piece of neatly folded paper, spreading it across the table in front everyone so they could see it, “We’ve finished our general outlook of the ground floor, and I continued with the information we know concerning the second floor,” he pointed to the floor numbers as they crowded around the desk, “We’re not exactly making a map— just a brief enough image for us to navigate through the area and a vague escape route.” he explained, and a few heads nodded absentmindedly. 

“I’m guessin’ they would be blockin’ all exits and entrances that they don’t use,” Techno quipped, “knowing we would be going there to rescue Dream, they’ll probably also have people ready in the area to catch us. Don’t want that happenin’,” he ended in a low voice, visibly worried for their safety. Tommy patted his older brother’s arm, his blue eyes focusing on the floor plan when his gaze landed on a certain area, “Bathroom.”

“Go,” Quackity prompted, and Tommy gave an exasperated sigh. The mexican raised his eyebrows, “you didn’t have to ask— ?” 

“No, no,” Tommy interrupted, “I mean, bathroom.” he pointed at the sketch, his finger precisely hovering over the specific area, “we can enter through the sewers. They wouldn’t expect it.” Fundy gave an irritated sigh, “Tommy, we’ll stink. And I’m pretty sure they’ll be able to notice that right away.”

Sapnap seemed intrigued at the idea however, “No, that could actually work.” all eyes turned to him, and he gave a grin, “we’ll make it our base once we get out of the sewers. If anyone’s in there, knock them out.” he clasped his hands together in front of him, an excited look on his face, “It’ll also give us access to their place. They have ID cards, y’know. We can steal their clothes too.” 

Karl nodded his head, rubbing his nonexistent beard, “That’s actually possible. For once, Sapnap uses his brain.” he received a glare from the younger male, but the brunette brushed it off. “So all we need to do now is to understand the sewage system, what tunnels lead to what place, and which exit we’ll be leaving that could lead us directly to the facility.” George agreed, hi-fiving the 22 year old. Tubbo frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait, we’re actually doing this?” 

There were a few _‘yes we’re being fucking serious’_ looks directed to the boy, and Tubbo raised his arms in a placating manner, “Okay, okay— jeez. I thought you guys were joking.”

Techno tilted his head and a smirk broke out across his face, “We have a plan now, boys,” he glanced at Niki and Puffy, who gave him expectant glares, “— and girls. We’d better get started though,” his voice had dropped down into a whisper, “I don’t think Dream could take it any longer.”

———

“Run through the entire thing again. I want to observe his fighting style,” Madam Jones demanded, and Marcus hurriedly nodded, winding back the tape and starting the footage over again.

_”Number 4,” a feminine voice said, and the hooded man clad in black raised his head to the voice. He seemed to recognise it, as he quickly detected it as a friend and not a foe. “We will release some men shortly. Remember this— they are your enemies, not your allies.” the man nodded, signalling the voice to continue. Madam Jones nodded, satisfied, “They will be let out now. Do your best.”_

_He relaxed his posture, hands clasped behind his back as he waited. Slowly, another door in the room opened, and out stepped a little over twenty men, all heavily armed with high quality armour and the most advanced weapons. He narrowed his eyes at the crowd as if analysing them, his body remaining still. For a split second, no one moved. Then a man broke through the ranks, raising his minigun and aimed for the cloaked figure, continuous bullets bouncing off the walls as he slowly moved to his target with the heavy weapon. Number 4, or more commonly known as Nightmare, teleported right as the bullets came his direction._

_The gun wielder was shocked for a moment, before he quickly composed himself, searching for the man. His other comrades soon followed suit, spreading out in the area to try to locate the hybrid. With god-like speed, a knife went down in mid-air just as Nightmare appeared, slashing through the skull of the nearest man and disappeared just as swiftly as he came. The man fell dead on the floor, brains spilling out the shell of his head. Some men were disgusted, turning away from the corpse. Nightmare materialised again, shoving the base of the gun another man was holding up his face, flipping the gun over and pressing the trigger, activating the weapon and the man dropped dead, bullets in his system._

_The other men quickly turned to where Nightmare stood, lifting their weapons and started gunning down the cloaked figure, but he had already vanished, reappearing next to a man with a MK-14, his trembling hands holding the hilt of the gun. Nightmare grinned, tapping his shoulder and the man turned to face him with a look of surprise. He collapsed on the floor as a bloody mess after that. Nightmare grabbed the battle rifle, weighing it and giving a content smirk. With one foot on the dead body below him, he raised the gun to his chest, swiftly killing off around six men before the rifle ran out of bullets._

_He gave a mock salute as he discarded the weapon, disappearing as he fell backwards. There were still twelve men left, and Nightmare had a plan already forming in his head. He appeared opposite of the men, quickly snapping one’s neck. His hand went to his back pocket, feeling for the blades he kept just in case. He held them near his chin, flashing a smile at the men and flicked his wrist, the blades flying at his command. He vanished as the metal hit their target, decapitating five men’s heads. They fell on the floor with a sickening thud, but no one seemed to pay attention to their deaths anymore._

_Seven. Nightmare emerged behind a person, dragging the knife by his hip down the back of the man’s spine. The man shuddered, eyes rolling to the back of his head before crumbling down into a spineless mess._

_Six, five. Headshots to both men as they stood with their guard let down._

_Four, three, two. He teleported between them, watching as another man awkwardly manning down his allies as he tried to kill him. Viscera and organs spilled onto the formerly pearl white floor, a colorful shade of red._

_One. He stepped over the body parts, approaching the man who killed his friends. Nightmare glanced at the ground, ‘tsk’ing, “Could’ve made it less messy.” he remarked, and a second later the last standing man dropped dead, a knife in his chest._

“Ma’am?” Marcus asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Madam Jones gave no reply, but straightened herself from where she was previously leaning down, “Yes?” she prompted. 

“You said you wanted to observe Nightmare’s fighting style,” Marcus murmured, “have you come to your conclusion yet?”

Madam Jones remained quiet for a second, before nodding her head, “It ranges with different weapons and people.” she whispered, eyes on the screen at the place they had paused at. The look on the dirty blonde’s face, whether it be Dream or Nightmare, was hauntingly scary. Like it pierced through your very soul, glaring you down until you died. She would hate to be an enemy to him.


	17. Sueño

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have liberal studies tmr and i haven't studied shit 🤠👍  
> but that's ok bc dream angst keeps me motivated
> 
> anywho 3k words woah that's pog amirite 👁👄👁 (no)

“I’m starting to think this is a bad idea,” Fundy muttered, trudging through the dirty waters. It wasn’t as deep as they had expected it to be, but the smell was starting to get on the fox’s nerves. “Which way do we go again?” he heard Wilbur murmur from the back of the group, confusion lacing his voice. “We turn right,” Techno replied smoothly, sharply turning towards the direction. The group had decided to let only seven people go, agreeing that it was the safest idea. Of course Sapnap and George volunteered— Dream was their best friend, despite having disagreements before— and Bad decided to stay at L’Manberg.

With them were Fundy, Techno and Wilbur— for obvious reasons, they had to restrict Tommy from following them. Punz had come too, with Quackity tagging along with them. They’d been walking for around six hours minimum, and— lucky for them— travelling through the sewage system was way faster than walking on land. Thank god because, well— they wouldn’t want to be sleeping in the sewers, right?

Right. 

“There should be a number here that leads us to the surface,” Techno spoke up, rubbing his chin, “keep a lookout for a ladder.” he instructed, and flashlights flickered brightly through the hazy darkness, in search of the exit. Punz squinted, the putrid scent that was entering his nostrils distracting him from focusing on their task. With a start, he realised he had been shining his flashlight on the designated number, a faded red ladder glinting under the glow of his light source, “Guys, I found it.”

Quackity cheered beside him, a grin on his face, “That’s our cue.”

The mexican gave the worn out ladder a test, putting weight on the first step experimentally. It gave an ear-splitting creak, kinda like the sound of nails against blackboards. Quackity gave an involuntary shudder, grimacing at the painful noise, “Yeah, uh, we’re actually attracting paparazzi at this rate. There’s like— twelve steps, and there’s seven of us.” he glanced at Techno, who sighed at the problem at hand, “Might as well. We’ve got no choice,” he stared at the ladder, “Who wants to go first?”

Silence overtook them, before Sapnap huffed, latching on his flashlight to his hip and approached the base of the ladder, taking two steps at a time and climbing up the metal bars. Everyone winced at the noise, but other than that made no comment. “It’s clear up here. It’s dark, actually,” he muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. George nodded at him, taking off his goggles from the top of his head and clasping them at the collar of his shirt. He seemed to hesitate for a split second, before he got up the ladder in a swift motion, and a moment later he was glancing down at the five people with Sapnap. 

One by one, the group that was crowded below the stairway began to scale up the metal. It was honestly strenuous, with George and Sapnap being temporary lookouts in case someone entered the bathroom. Punz helped Fundy up the last step and Techno closed the latch with a loud click, “Right, do we burn the bathroom entrance now?” Quackity asked, giddy. Safe to say he received some glares instead of slaps, as Wilbur peeked out through the little gap below the door, and sat up quickly, “Someone’s coming.”

Everyone swiftly got into the bathroom stalls, with Techno and Sapnap hovering by the entrance to knock the person out. The door opened, and a man walked in, angrily talking on his communicator, “—dumbass! You’re supposed to hand in the reports by noon! Oh my god, Jones is gonna kill m—” his words got cut off as Techno whacked the back of his head with the flat side of his blade, the man collapsing in a heap. “We’ve got one uniform. We’re gonna have to split up again,” he murmured, poking the unconscious man with the end of his sword, “one team stays here to stand guard, while the other goes looking for Dream.” 

The group nodded, and after a few minutes of frantic stage-whispering and pointing, they got to their settlement, with Techno, Fundy, George and Wilbur staying behind, the former two’s reason being obvious— hybrids— and the latter two because of their recognisable accents. George wasn’t very pleased, but begrudgingly accepted the decision. They waited for another good hour until they got two more sets of uniforms, taking their ID cards as well. George had agilely slipped out and back, placing a ‘cleaning in process’ sign outside. A little while later, Techno had successfully thrown the three poor victims down the sewers, closing the latch and locking it. 

Sapnap blanched at the name of his ID, “Who names themselves ‘Dick’ anyway?” he held the card out, a frown on his face, “Do I have to necessarily take this name?”

Quackity hid a snicker, and Punz sighed, clipping off his own and exchanging it with Sapnap, “You’re welcome,” he muttered, putting the card in the front pocket, and Sapnap suppressed a grin, “thanks, Dick.” 

Punz flipped him off after that, with Sapnap now identifying as Ryder and Quackity as Hugo. Techno tried to hide a chuckle with a look of annoyance, but his eyes showed otherwise, “Alright, you guys should be ready,” he smirked, “just return here if you’ve got a plan or if you’ve discovered something.”

All three mock-saluted, shit-eating grins on their faces, “We’ll try not to get killed.”

Before Techno had registered what they had said, the three had already walked out the door.

———

Nightmare didn’t want to brag, but he was told he was crazy good at memorising things, like he had photographic memory. He would simply smile and shrug it off, saying it was probably luck that stuck with him. 

He’d been around the facility for almost a little more than a week, and by now he could effortlessly remember the people around Andy’s division. His gaze hardened, and he didn’t realise that a knife had embedded itself to the wall opposite him, a sign that showed he was either frustrated or angry. Andy.. Andy wasn’t a good person, he knew that. But he wasn’t made to turn against his allies— everything new they’ve taught him, it helped him a lot. Like using a blunt knife to kill was a much more painful experience, or how torture helped get information out of certain FBI agents. He enjoyed doing that; call him a sadist— he would wear that title proudly. He pulled the knife out of the wall, sheathing it back to his hip and picking up the scattered blades on the floor. 

“Oh, hey, Four,” he tilted his head at the codename as Zack walked in, “how’s precision practise going?” he asked, a playful gleam to his eyes. He liked Zack, he didn’t know what made him think like that, but something about the brunette made him feel safe, “It’s pretty good,” he flexed his fingers, stiff from grabbing the hilt of his blade for too long. Zack nodded distractedly, “So, 100% kill rate, huh?”

Nightmare raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. New serum,” he rubbed at the scar on his wrist, “makes everything better y’know. Killing on point won’t be stressing anymore,” he managed a smirk, and Zack laughed, throwing his head back, “That’s good, that’s good,” he sighed, glancing at his watch, his breath cut short as his eyes widened, “Oh, shit, shit.” he muttered, straightening himself and heading to the door, “I’ll catch you later.”

The blonde didn’t bother to wave back as the man had already walked out the threshold. Nightmare released a breath he’d been holding, pulling up his sleeves and rewrapped the bandages on his forearm, courtesy of the continuous killing sprees he had been on for three days straight. It acted as a kind of breather— slaughter was the only thing that could make him feel good. It was exhilarating, the wind on his face as he teleported and landed right at the victim’s back, finishing them off with a clean slice to the neck.

Footsteps echoed and he snapped out of his stupor, looking up to see three men walk in. He was positive that he had never seen them, and that made him instantly alert. They could be from other divisions— he didn’t know, he’d never ventured out of his area. Sometimes, maybe, when he was taken to test, but he hadn’t gotten to know everyone so he didn’t assume they were outsiders initially. There was one with black hair, and what seemed to be a white band dangling from his wrist, “Dream?”

Nightmare’s fingers grazed the hilt of his blade, “There’s no one called Dream here,” he hissed out, and with his improved vision, he could clearly see the name on the ID that was clipped to the front pocket, “Ryder. Which division are you from?” he narrowed his eyes, and the man slightly faltered, his eyes wide in panic, his lips forming words but nothing came out. A split second later his throat was touching Nightmare’s blade, and the blonde was only adding even more pressure to the weapon.

“Stop,” a man with a beanie interrupted, but Nightmare didn’t seem fazed, “you— you’re hurting him. Let’s talk this out,” he held his hands up placatingly, “I’m Hugo Lee. We’re all newcomers here, we’ve all just finished being trainees and— well, we’re kinda lost.” he gave an awkward smile, and Nightmare lowered his blade, sheathing it. “He called me Dream,” he pointed out, his glare piercing through the three, “explain.”

This time the last person spoke up, “He thought you looked like someone he knew,” he chuckled nervously, “he’s kinda recovering from amnesia.”

“I am?” the ravenette muttered, before he quickly added, “I mean, I am. Yeah, I got hit by a car five years ago. Recovering from amnesia.” he flashed a smile, but something still seemed off with the trio. Nightmare let it slip for now, and extended a hand, inclining his head to a side, “Number 4, but people call me Nightmare. Pleasure to meet you.” 

He didn’t miss the quiet intake of breaths as he finished introducing himself, but he brushed it off. He’ll ask Madam Jones about the newcomers later. “So, Nightmare,” the platinum blonde, Dick, started casually, “It’s not your real name, is it? I’m not gonna pry if you don’t want to say it,” he added quickly, but Nightmare shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s fine. I don’t have a name,” he hummed, guiding the three over to the door, “I come and go by Nightmare, or Four. Experiment number,” he supplied, walking down the corridor with his hands behind his back, “I’m a creation. Assassin of the facility.” 

“Assassin?” Hugo echoed, interest lacing his voice, “That’s cool. How come I’ve never heard of you before?”

That seemed to have struck a chord, but Nightmare had taken the time to think— something didn’t fit the timeline here. It was strange, but he quickly moved on from the topic, changing the idea, “Tell me a little about yourselves. What field do you specialise in?”

They communicated with their eyes, and the raven haired man spoke up first, “I’m good with things in general, but for what field; I’m not really sure.” he grinned stupidly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Hugo’s good with researching and finding stuff— he’s really observant— and Dick’s into biology and stuff,” Nightmare nodded slowly, halfheartedly listening. They had arrived by Madam Jones’ door right now, and the black clad man knocked once, signalling his presence. 

“Uh.. what’re we doing?” Hugo murmured, confusion in his eyes. Nightmare arched his eyebrows, “Meeting the supervisor.”

He swore the three newcomers had turned white, and one of them had started shaking, “Uh.. uhm—” Ryder fumbled with his words, but just as his lips parted, the door opened, revealing Madam Jones, “Four, what a surprise.” her eyes travelled to the three newcomers, narrowing, “who are these people?” 

Nightmare chuckled, turning to the trio, “Well, they said they were newcomers. Judging from your reaction, I’m guessing they’re not.” 

“No, they’re not.” her tone was coated with vitriol, curling her lip backwards as if a snarl. She picked up the IDs, “Ryder,” she shoved the ravenette back, “Dick,” the platinum blonde fidgeted under her glare, “Hugo.” the beanie wearing dude winced, “Or, Sapnap, Punz and Quackity?”

Their names sounded awfully familiar, but Nightmare didn’t know where they had ever met. Were they actually FBI agents? If his hunch was correct, he would never forgive himself for allowing three undercover spies lurk in the facility. “Four,” Madam Jones snapped at his direction, “execute them.” His blades were already in between his fingers, and all he needed to do was to flick his wrist and they’d all die, whether they run or not. But something was holding him back— he needed answers, “Ma’am,” he swallowed, “I need to know who they are.”

Madam Jones looked taken aback, “That doesn’t matter,” she glared at him, “you act on my orders, and your task right now is to kill them.” she walked up to him, “Do I make myself clear, Four?” 

“No,” Nightmare retorted, earning a surprised expression, “I act on your orders, yes,” he hated how that made him sound like an obedient dog, “but I’m— I have my own way of thinking too.” he was just making excuses at this point; he didn’t require logical thinking to kill, hell, he didn’t think it was necessary to consider when he slaughtered thousands out there, but yet— now;

Why was he hesitating so much?

“Tell me who they are, and I’ll kill them, whether they like it or not.” he made his final stance clear, and Madam Jones sighed, “They are no one. You have never met them,” she stated firmly, “Kill them, _now,_ or I’ll make you.” Nightmare’s eyes widened— she’d only ever forced him to kill once, and it was an unpleasant experience. He didn’t want to do it again, despite how satisfying it was to feel the blood and viscera dripping from his hand and— “The facility saved you, Nightmare.” Madam Jones suddenly said, bringing Nightmare out of his thoughts.

His breathing stuttered, and he remembered it clearly now. Madam Jones nodded, “The dark box, it was frightening, no?” she whispered, and Nightmare felt all his worry evaporate, “That was the facility?” he muttered, “That was you?” she dipped her head, and he felt himself slip away again.

“You. Are. Lying.” he bit out, closing his eyes, his grip on the blades tightening, “All I wanted to know is their identity, and yet you refuse to tell me,” he spat, glaring at the supervisor, realising she had just put back her communicator. He bit his lip; she had called reinforcements. Those three were dead meat whether they acknowledge it or not, and it wasn’t up to him to decide.

Madam Jones was getting impatient, _”Sueno,”_

It was the trigger word. His pupils constricted, his movements still. Sapnap stared at Nightmare’s emerald- amethyst eyes and backpedaled a step. It was terrifying, knowing that he could rip their throats out in one swift move. In one swift move, they’d be dead. Nightmare made the first move, disappearing and reappeared on top of him, bringing his knife down in a wide arc in an attempt to slice Sapnap in half. He moved out of the way just in time, his chest heaving at how horribly close he was to dying.

Some men had arrived, but they weren’t wearing white coats, so Sapnap deduced they weren’t scientists. The men tried to get in between Nightmare and them, probably trying to close in on the trio too, but they were brutally murdered by Nightmare, who only thought they were a nuisance. Sapnap gasped, ducking as a blade flew his direction, “Holy shit, dude,” he muttered, moving away from Nightmare to rejoin with Quackity and Punz.

“What did she do? What did she do?” Quackity mumbled, his eyes widened, “She said something; it— it was in Spanish, I should know that!” he growled, as Punz hurried to contact Techno and the others. The wall they were hiding behind exploded into bits, debris falling off the broken ledge. The three gulped, getting to their legs and ran. 

“It was something like— like.. uh,” Sapnap racked his brain, “it sounded like ‘say no’?” 

Quackity swerved right as a blade dove their way, “Oh my god, it’s dream. Nasty motherfuckers.”

Sapnap raised an eyebrow, “We all know it’s Dream, Quacki—”

“No, no. The word. Sueno means ‘dream’ in Spanish,” Quackity explained, taking a sharp turn and Sapnap realised they were navigating towards the bathroom, “Wh—” he panted, getting a little out of breath, “why would they name it that? Is it like a trigger or something?”

Quackity fiddled with the bathroom’s handle, “Open up bitches! We’re gonna get fried—” the door opened and they stumbled in, with Fundy quickly locking the door, “What’s happened? Where’s Dream?”

The three tried to catch their breaths, “He— they—” Punz started, sucking in deep breaths, “Dream— not him,” he gasped, coughing. “He’s Nightmare,” Quackity supplied, “no Dream. Nightmare.”

The door was shaking, and they assumed they didn’t have much time left before Dre— Nightmare attacked them. “We go down with a fight,” Techno murmured, “even if he’s stronger than us combined or something. We’ll do it,” the others nodded with him, a smile on their lips even if they were on the verge of dying.

With a shower of splinters and wood, the bathroom door burst open, revealing a potentially insane Nightmare standing in all his glory.

George looked sickened, but the grip on his diamond sword remained firm. He could say the same for others too, the impact was hard, he’ll admit— seeing Dream as his enemy was the worst thing that could happen, especially now since they didn’t know what the facility had done to him in the span of 11 days. He really didn’t want to know now, especially with how there was this crazed glint in his eyes and the scarring on his face.

He took a deep breath, and hoped for the best.


	18. Counterfeit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh first week of exams are over 😩 but i dread for chemistry next monday ew
> 
> ann knee wae here's chapter 18 y'all im not satisfied w how it turned out but it'll be fine 🤠 (i think-)
> 
> its almost 12am but that's ok bc dream angst is 😃👍

_Knock knock._

“Come in,” Niki murmured, tidying the last of the mess she’d made while baking. She looked up, meeting familiar blue eyes, “Tommy? What are you—”

“Niki,” the blonde cut her off, “we have a problem.” she let the teen guide her, her mind racing. _Had something gone wrong with the rescue mission? Had they—_ she shook her head at the thought, they would come back fine. “Where are we going, Tommy?” she mumbled, her wrist tightly held on by the sixteen year old, “There’s someone here. We got the signal from the ward,” he swerved around a house, leading Niki nearer to L’Manberg’s borders, “Bad’s there. Karl went to get Eret and Tubbo’s getting Puffy.”

Niki frowned. _So it wasn’t rescue mission related._ It gave her some form of reassurance, but it didn’t help settle the sinking feeling in her stomach. As they neared the borders, she could faintly make out two people, one man and one woman. They were in business suits, but were slightly charred by the voltage charged at them for trespassing the territory. They looked considerably fine though. The man had black hair and tan skin, with crystal blue eyes, “Hi, you must be Niki,” he introduced, a worn out smile on his face, “I’m Travis Lewis. Head of Intelligence in the FBI.” 

Niki’s eyes slightly widened. She’d heard of the FBI when she was little, but the name had died out on her tongue as she sought the life of survival. L’Manberg was her home, built brick by brick, which is why it was a surprise hearing the name pop up again after so many years, “Yes, I am. May I ask why you’re here?” 

The woman next to him took up from there, “Maia Carter. Nice to meet you,” she smiled up at Niki, “we’re here because, well, as FBI agents of Intelligence, part of our job is to track down criminal records that go unsolved.” she explained, pulling out a file from her bag, “Mr Michael Donnelly died two weeks ago at an annual division gathering. His corpse was found in the washroom by the cleaning lady after finding out it was locked.” 

Niki narrowed her eyes, “I don’t get where this is going.” 

Maia flipped through the file for Niki, her finger pointing at a picture, “You’ll see what I mean soon. It had taken us a little more than a week to find out that the murderer was not from the city, so we figured it must be somewhere out here. L’Manberg is an incredible city, by the way,” she added, and Niki grinned. 

The FBI agent continued, “I was at that gathering, and I had passed by someone who I didn’t know. I’d waved to him, not knowing who he was,” she murmured, and a picture of a familiar looking blonde was clipped on the page, talking to a man with a monocle. Niki’s face had visibly paled, and she knew the agents saw that too, “You know him, don’t you?” 

Niki tried to calm her breathing, and with a hesitant sigh, she nodded, “Dream. He’s our friend,” her eyes traced back to the date the picture was captured, widening at the numbers, “Wait— that’s— “ she trailed off. It was the exact same date Puffy and her were tested on, and she had vividly remembered how he was covered in blood, “we— we were taken by some people. Dream— Dream’s being forced to work with them then,” she mumbled, coherent enough for Maia to listen, “it wasn’t his fault. We would die if he didn’t trade his life for us.” 

“Taken?” Travis echoed, his interest piqued, “Can you describe them?” 

Niki frowned, “People in white lab coats. They experiment on people, creating assassins.” 

Travis snapped his fingers, a smirk on his face, “And there you go, Carter,” he grinned, crossing his arms in front of him while Maia huffed, a groan escaping her lips, “Alright, genius.” she recomposed herself, “Right, do you know where Dream is? And maybe where the people in white are as well. We’re trying to link the cases together.” 

“I can do the explaining,” Eret quipped, walking up behind Niki with Karl by their side, “Dream’s one of their creations, and he’s been captured a second time since our return a week ago,” they explained, gesticulating with their hand, “we’ve sent some of our friends to get him back, but we haven’t heard from them in a while,” Eret tilted their head, “you won’t hurt Dream, right?” 

Travis hesitated, before shaking his head, “No guarantees. If he’s dangerous, we have the power to arrest him for murder, even being under manipulation. But that’s judgemental, he’ll probably be let off. We’re not sure yet,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, “On the other hand, your defences really shocked me though,” he smiled, making a pun, “that was intended.” 

Niki rolled her eyes, “Alright, I want my friend back too,” she gave an outstretched arm, “just— I don’t think he’s in the right mind right now, wherever he is,” she bit her lip, “don’t hurt him.” Travis nodded, an awkward grin on his face, “We’ll try not to.” he shook her hand. 

Niki nodded, running a hand through her hair, “The facility is about a day’s journey from here on land. By the sewers, it should take about seven hours. Don’t ask,” she deadpanned, shutting the two agents up, “We have a map laid out, you can have a copy of it if you need it. You’ll have to be careful of them though, they’re sneaky bastards.” she finished, pulling out the map she kept with her at all times, spreading the previously folded piece of paper to show the agents. Maia grabbed her tablet, briefly scanning over the sketch and saved it to her electronic folder. She suppressed a grateful smile, “Thank you, Niki. The FBI appreciates your help.” 

The German beamed, “Good luck. Tubbo, Tommy,” she beckoned the two, “escort our guests.” 

———

Dream— Nightmare?— was strong, Techno’ll give him that.

There was an invisible brutality behind every attack, but the man seemed so effortless fighting a group of 7, casually sending blades to their direction to shake them off his back for a while. Techno, despite being the _blood god_ , had to admit that he was slowly getting tired. Fighting Nightmare was visibly strenuous, as his sword connected with the man’s blade again. Nightmare gritted his teeth, pushing back harshly with force that sent Techno’s feet slipping, gradually losing grip on the frictionless bathroom tiles. Panic was crawling up his spine, but he wasn’t giving up. Not yet. 

They had a plan and that was fine. George lithely slid away from the battle, trying to find some sedates or tranquiliser darts that could temporarily put Nightmare to a stop. Wilbur was keeping a lookout in case more people came, but Techno could tell he was worried by how many times he kept glancing backwards, checking to see if anyone was down. “Duck!” Techno grunted as he released the hold on Dream’s blade, catching the man off guard as Nightmare pushed forward, stopping himself just as his shoulder hit the wall. Punz sighed in relief as he was nearly decapitated, saved by Techno’s warning.

The half-piglin raised his sword to block Nightmare’s attack just in time, cold sweat dripping down his chin at the close call. Wilbur had winced a little while standing guard outside, releasing a breath when Techno was able to parry the hit. The weight on the side of his sword vanished as Sapnap distracted Nightmare, engaging in a physical battle with the ravenette. Techno quickly recovered from the minor panic attack Nightmare had given him, bringing up his sword once again to at least injure the man.

Nightmare swiftly flicked the blade in his hands and pinned Sapnap to a nearby wall, the younger male gasping as he hung in mid-air, the blade piercing the sleeve of his shirt to the wall, struggling to get down. He threw another blade just as he turned around, the blade grazing Techno’s sword with full force, a slight wind buffeting his face as the weapon whirred past the hybrid. It was a good enough distraction as Nightmare recomposed himself, patting down his body only to realise he had discarded all his blades. 

“You lose,” Techno murmured, pointing his blade at Nightmare’s throat, his expression stoic, “stand down, Nightmare.”

The man laughed, _laughed,_ and his voice sent shivers down Techno’s spine. He recognised it— this wasn’t Dream, but someone who sounded like they were driven to the brink of insanity, clinging on to the thin threads that were the last ties to humanity, “Techno, Techno,” the blood god noted that he hadn’t told Nightmare his name, yet the blonde knew. Was Dream resurfacing? _”I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”_

In a flash, he’d teleported away.

—and landed straight on his back.

Techno scowled, shaking the man off him, but Nightmare held a firm grip on his shoulders, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and remained balanced on Techno’s back. “Get off me!” Techno growled, trying to reach for the man. 

Nightmare had an outstretched hand as he directed a blade to his palm, gripping the hilt as he readied a stance to kill off Techno. The hybrid braced himself, preparing for the worst, when everything stilled, and he looked up to see a panting George frozen in place, his eyes on Nightmare, who had a syringe embedded on his side. There was a look of surprise on Nightmare’s face, before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell, with Techno catching him just as he collapsed in his arms. 

He glanced at the broken bathroom. Sapnap had just been helped down by Quackity and Fundy, and Punz peeked out from behind the bathroom stall, eyes wide at the damage. Just then, Wilbur rushed in, ushering everyone to the sewer cover, “They’re coming. We need to go, now.”

With some effort, they managed to yank the sewer lid open, and one by one they crawled in, taking hesitant steps downwards as the creaking of the ladder started again. Wilbur swiftly closed the latch, and climbed down the stairway, landing just as footsteps approached the upstairs bathroom. There was a muffled “where did they go?” before the footsteps faded away, and it was finally then the group released a breath they had been holding. 

“Let’s hurry,” Fundy whispered, lightweight on his steps as they once again trekked through the muddy waters, this time ignoring the scent with their problem at hand, “I’m not sure how long exactly that— that thing works. But I’m not gonna risk it.” he shuddered as he glanced at Dream— Nightmare, damnit. It was.. A rollercoaster of emotions, to say the least. The fox couldn’t believe how one minute the blonde was going full on assassin mode, and then the next he was out cold in Techno’s arms. 

“I’m worried though,” George mumbled, looking at anywhere but the unconscious person, “what— what they did to him. He didn’t recognise us at all,” his voice cracked at the end, and he coughed to hide the change. 

Quackity snorted, “He was so close to killing Sapnap. I swear to god, Sap, your acting skills absolutely suck.” there was an indignant yell from the back of the group, but Quackity ignored him, “I heard one of the things they did though. We were right outside when Zack and him were talking,” he murmured, remembering the moment, “‘100% kill rate’. We really could’ve died.” 

“Jones mentioned something about a black box,” Punz interjected, “what do you think it means?”

Silence overtook them, the only source of sound being the slosh of the water under their feet, “Dream was able to break through the serum last time, and we don’t know if they’ve given him a stronger dose, so we’re not excluding that possibility,” Wilbur murmured quietly.

“Don’t say that. Don’t—” Sapnap tried, biting his lip, “I can’t— he doesn’t give in easily.”

Wilbur hummed, “Then the most direct answer would be the facility had wiped his mind. There’s no other explanation.” The rest of the journey was quiet, partially because everyone was tired and partially because they had a lot on their minds. How were they gonna help Dream if he doesn’t even recognise them? 

They exited the sewers through the tunnel that directly led to broad daylight, and they breathed in the fresh air, happy to be out in the wild once again. “What do we do with him?” Fundy murmured, trailing the path back to L’Manberg, “He could easily teleport away. We might lose him again.” 

Techno sighed, “We can’t keep him locked up. Paralyse him, maybe, but he’ll be able to teleport anyway,” he trudged through the grassy field, going up the hill that overlooked L’Manberg, “we’d have to get him to trust us. Maybe find a way to recover his memory.” 

———

He woke up with a startled gasp.

 _”What happened?”_ he whispered, frantically patting himself down to see whether he was tied to something or bound. Nothing, no restraints and all that jazz. He frowned, racking his brain to jostle his memory of what had happened, before he realised he had absolutely no clue. He rubbed his temples, a headache forming. _She used the word. She used the word. She used the word._ He didn’t know how it worked, but every time Madam Jones used the trigger word he would wake up the next day having no memory of what he had done. 

With the guidance of the dim moonlight, he quickly familiarised himself to his surroundings, taking note how it was completely foreign to him, yet he had a feeling he’d been here before. Nightmare ran a hand through his blonde hair, a distraught expression crossing his face. He wasn’t in the box. He wasn’t in the box. The only difference now is that he has the power to escape, and he’ll do that right now. Bringing his arms forward, purple sparks fizzed to life, then faded as fast as it had come. He tried again, but to no avail. With a sigh, he hefted himself off the bed he was in and made a beeline to the door right adjacent to him, creaking it open.

Voices were attacking his aching head. He peeked around the wooden material, his previously blurry eyes focusing on the few people before him, huddled around a birch table talking in hushed tones. It didn’t apply to Nightmare though, due to his inhuman hearing.

“— different person. That’s not Dream, that’s a walking killing machine.” a familiar voice argued, with Nightmare distinguishing the voice as Fundy— _”Wait, I don’t know him,”_ he muttered inwardly. How had he known the hybrid’s name— _there it was again, how had he known Fundy was a hybrid?_ — without meeting him at all? Something didn’t fit in his memory. The headache pounded painfully in his head, and he held back a groan to continue listening to the conversation.

“Then what are we supposed to do?” an accented voice said, laced with hysteria, “What, give up on him? After he went and sacrificed his life for us?” George. _What?_ “That’s not what I mean,” Fundy huffed, crossing his arms, “We’ll have to find a way to make him remember stuff, and it won’t be easy,” he murmured, and Nightmare’s hand had involuntarily travelled to his temple. _What did they mean, recover my memory?_ he turned away from the group, flexing his fingers in an attempt to teleport again. He bit his lip when nothing came out. _The body’s exhausted._

He laid back down on the bed, knowing it was quite literally useless for him to escape in his situation right now. The people outside were trying to make him stay, which only meant they weren’t going to harm him or anything. That was fine. He could bide his time. Multi-colored eyes concentrated on the blank ceiling, and he blinked. _My memory is altered,_ that was his immediate thought, by whom— he didn’t know. It was more or less likely to be people from the facility though— he had a bad feeling about the entire ordeal already.

A sigh escaped his lips, how had he gotten to where he is now? It started off with him mindlessly killing because he thought the facility had saved him from that— that stupid black box that— _no, don’t,_ his mind whispered, and the train of thought evaporated. From what Hugo— _Hugo is Quackity,_ — had asked him, it had really caught him like a deer in the headlights. He didn’t have an answer to that; he was 21 years of age, surely he would be known to the facility if he were here in his youth? Madam Jones was most definitely lying about the ‘saving you from the box’ thing. Lies. Everyone told lies.

He closed his eyes, listening to the faint breathing he made and the muffled voices still talking outside. Who was he, really? Does he even know himself? Nightmare doubts that. 

_Lies. I’ve been fed lies to kill._

There was so much going on right now, it hurt his head to think. Pushing the thoughts aside, he decided to sleep. He hadn’t had much rest in the past week anyway, and it was a good way to naturally regenerate. He would consider his options tomorrow, after all, he wasn’t in any life-threatening danger right now. It was going to be fine. He’ll find out what happened to his memory.

Eventually.


	19. Digging Deeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls the title is so bad i suck at coming up w those 
> 
> uGH im SO sorry this took so long 😩 chinese history was the last subject and we're done with already (probs gonna fail that but anyway 🤠)
> 
> i kinda had a writers' block but i managed, dw, but this chapter kinda sucked??? 
> 
> ill try to resume regular updating, if not an update every two days, but i promise no longer than that
> 
> ew this is short 😔

_”What would you do if you were to bargain for everyone’s safety?”_

_He inclined his head, humming, “Depends. I would easily take my own life for the exchange of everyone’s existence.”_

_Brown fluttered into view, and he saw white goggles perched on top of George’s hair, a wistful look in his face, “That was the Dream I knew long ago, before the entire war started.” the brit murmured quietly, and Dream was quite frankly a bit taken aback at that. “That was the Dream that cared. He’s gone now.” the blonde didn’t miss the cold look on George’s face as he stood up, “Be honest with me, Dream. You would rather sacrifice us all to ensure your well-being.”_

_“George, what—” Dream took a deep breath, trying to make a sentence with his jumbled mind, “that— is that how you see me?”_

_George didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and left, ignoring the look of disbelief on Dream’s face. The blonde bit back a plea, sitting on the grass as he watched George’s silhouette slowly fade away. Was that what he thought of him? A- A cold-blooded, merciless monster?_

_“I might’ve been one,” the sentence left his lips faster than he could process what he had said, “but how, after years of protecting you guys from danger,” his voice cracked as he dropped into a whisper, “would you guys only label me as a monster?”_

_He’d killed before. Of course he’d killed before. The facility wanted to make him a murderer. It was his job; to kill on demand, like— like a dog. Dream clenched his fingers to a fist, his eyes clouded behind the mask. He hated himself, too, for allowing himself to become the one thing he had sworn not to be._

_His hands trembled at how hard he had tightened his fingers, and he quickly relaxed them, trying to calm himself down. A monster, a villain, and Dream will always be labelled as that._

———

Nightmare woke up in cold sweat. 

A frown was evident on his face as he tried to decipher the dream. Was that a memory? Or was it just purely an unrealistic dream that had never happened? He scowled, running a hand through his hair as he thought it over and over again. Dream. He had been called Dream. George— that was George— he was there. And George was present in reality, walking and breathing and definitely not a vision. Nightmare wasn’t sure of himself anymore. 

Goosebumps prickled at the back of his skin, and he shuddered, vividly remembering what it was like back at the— that- that _place_. Nightmare closed his eyes, taking in a breath. He met his eyes in the window’s reflection, a distraught look in his gaze. “Look at you,” he muttered, chuckling bitterly, “you’re a nothing. A _nothing_ right now.” he felt himself slowly breaking down. He is— he was _confident,_ he was _fearless,_ but glancing at himself in the glass panel, he couldn’t help but feel so helpless and so _weak—_

He wasn’t. He didn’t fit in any of those ‘warrior traits’. He may be a good fighter, a decent assassin as they may say, but at this very moment he only felt like a little boy who had lost his mother. God, he doesn’t even _know_ who the fuck he’s supposed to be! Nightmare— or, or Dream? 

“Dre—Nightmare,” a familiar voice called from the doorway. _There it was again._ Nightmare turned, coming face to face with Punz. _How had he gotten in here?_ “I, um, knocked beforehand.” the older bit his lip hesitantly, not knowing what he should say to initiate conversation, “Do you—”

“Tell me,” Nightmare blurted, startling Punz, “who am I? Right now, to you,” there was an unmistakable plea in his voice, heterochromatic eyes gazing at the platinum blonde’s clear blue ones. Punz glanced away, taking a deep breath, “Right now? You— You’re Nightmare. A supposed enemy of mine. Someone that had nearly killed some of my friends,” he looked at Nightmare, who ran a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off the man. Something seemed different with the man in front of him, and Punz couldn’t help but ask, “What happened?” he winced at the sudden harshness of his voice, clearing his throat. 

Nightmare froze at his words, “What?”

“You. You, uh, your cold-blooded demeanour.” Punz gesticulated with his hands randomly, hoping to achieve some form of acknowledgement from the other man. Nightmare laughed, but it didn’t sound like the usual sadistic tone, instead it was a dry one, “Oh, yes, I should _definitely_ keep that facade up under situations where I don’t fucking know who I am.” he spat. Punz looked slightly taken aback, “..facade?” 

_”Yes, facade,”_ Nightmare retorted, whipping his head at Punz, ”because I can _feel_ things.” his voice cracked at the end, “Because _I’m human_ too. ” a semblance of what seemed to be hatred was in his eyes. Punz’s gaze softened, and he sighed, his outstretched hand latching on to the younger’s arm, tugging him into an embrace. Nightmare went stiff initially, but melted into Punz’s hug nonetheless. This was nothing like how the facility had ever treated him. They weren’t empathetic or sympathetic in any way— Zack, sometimes, but no one had ever stopped their work for him. “It’s alright,” Punz murmured, noticing how Nightmare had tensed up, “listen, we just— we need the Dream we know back,” he mumbled quietly, coherent enough for Nightmare to hear him, “we need you to remember.”

He’s Dream, not Nightmare.

_”You would rather sacrifice us all to ensure your well-being.”_

Night— Dream closed his eyes, shoving the memory away. He’d never had anyone to protect in the facility. His only job was to kill— not defend. What did that mean, in his dream? That he was selfish? 

“I can try,” he muttered, eyes half-lidded, conscious that he felt safe, “but it won’t be easy.”

Punz smiled, carding a hand through Dream’s blond locks, “Yeah, we know. We’ll do anything we can.”

_”What do you think you are? A hero?” Techno’s rough voice rang in his ears as he shrank back, “You’re a monster, Dream. No one here likes you,” he hissed, eyes narrowing, “who causes chaos and then says it’s ‘for everybody’s safety’?” the half-piglin laughed, turning away from the blonde. Dream blinked repeatedly, trying to get rid of the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Maybe Techno was right. Who does that anyway, hurting their friends and then coming back to tell them he was only protecting them? “Honestly, Techno, I couldn’t agree more.” Bad crossed his arms, his brows furrowed and a frown was on his face, “He doesn’t even care. If he was our friend, he wouldn’t have done all those.”_

_His heartbeat accelerated. His mind was racing. They didn’t like him. They hated him. Hated him—_

“Dream, hey,” Punz murmured, aware of how the blonde had a vice grip on the back of his shirt, “Dream?”

_”Shitty excuses,” Karl drawled, a bored look on his face as he ran a hand along his face, “and here I thought you were better than that.” he sighed, casting a glance at Sapnap, who shrugged indifferently, “what did you expect from him, Karl?” he shook his head, a fire burning in his eyes as he glared at Dream with distaste, “Why do you even bother to stay?” he tilted his head like a curious cat, his gaze unwavering, “What— did you think we would just forgive you? Like that, after the mess you’ve made?” he scoffed, a mocking look on his face. It was always like that, what— what did he even do? He was scared, tired, and most importantly— lost. Why? Why did they hate him and point at him and mock him—_

“Dream,” 

Punz was here. Punz felt safe. He was okay, he wasn’t in the box, he’s nowhere near there, he’s fine— “Yes, yeah. I’m okay.” _you’re not._ “Might be harder than expected, though. You’re fine, I think. You feel safe,” his voice dropped into a whisper, “I don’t— I’m not sure about the others.”

“That’s fine,” the older blonde said, “we’ll start small. A few people.” 

Dream didn’t know what to think about that.

———

“We’re turning him in the instant we find him, and that’s final.” Maia growled, slamming her fists on the table. The stationery in Travis’ pen stand shook at the impact, but he only gave a nonchalant look, “Maia, listen to me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “we’re not doing that. I know my plan is against protocol— I’m not a fucking idiot,” he deadpanned, staring down his partner, “but it can help us.” 

Maia scoffed, a look of incredulity plastered on her face, “Plan? When have your plans ever worked, Lewis?” Travis looked offended at that. “And you said it yourself— it’s against protocol. You’re risking your own job— for what?” 

Travis stood up, a defiant look on his face, “Okay, first off all, _I’m_ the head here,” Maia took a step backward, a scowl on her face, “Wow, Travis, never thought you’d be the kind to threaten me with your fucking position,” she hissed, eyebrows furrowing, but Travis ignored her, “second, I know what I’m doing,” he muttered, raising his fingers to count alongside his points, “it’s not dangerous at all if I take the right procedures. Third,” he went around his desk, keeping his fingers held high, “it would simultaneously help us break all the unsolved cases. Our enemy right now, Maia, has left us standing here with no information. But we have a key witness now.” He stated calmly, staring at Maia with such intensity that she nearly tripped on her feet, “I thought you wanted to be known for your work. Here’s your chance,”

Maia frowned as Travis returned to his seat behind the desk, and she gave a defeated huff, nodding, “Alright, alright. Those reasons are.. valid, I suppose,” she plopped down the chair opposite to Travis, clasping her hands in front of her, “So, genius, what’s your plan?”

Travis only smirked, knowing well he had won the argument, “We go to L’Manberg, again. They should’ve returned.”

Maia raised an eyebrow, “So your little investigation mission was a fail?”

The ravenette shrugged, “We went accordingly to what Niki had provided us with. I mean, it was a bit disappointing to find them already gone when we had arrived, but the good news is that we know the ‘anonymous enemy’s’ location now. We can theoretically file a report anytime to Dean, but I don’t feel like doing that,” he mumbled, “yet.”

The female agent narrowed her eyes pensively, “Well, what’s the grand plan? Do you want me to know or not?”

Travis raised his arms placatingly, a grin breaking out on his lips, “The plan is a surprise. All you need to know is that we’re going to the city— and we get the information we need from him. Who knows? Maybe he’d cooperate with us and help take down our enemy.”

“You have too much confidence for someone always making mistakes,” she muttered, a ghost of a smile on her lips, “when do we leave?” Travis’ beam got wide, an amused glint to his eyes, “Oh, so now the tiger wants to play,” he laughed at the look Maia gave him, “Right now, if you’re done with your stuff.”

Maia nodded, getting up from her seat, “Down at exit B?”

“You betcha,” Travis winked, earning an irritated sigh from Maia, “See you in 10.”

———

“It’s no use doing that now!” Madam Jones scowled, swiping her hand and a second later the previously filed reports and experiment results alike landed on the floor, scattered. Andy bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything dumb to infuriate the supervisor more. “Every time. Every _single_ fucking time,” Madam Jones seethed, eyes narrowed into slits as she glared daggers at her subordinate, “I give you a job, and you and your team fucks it up every time.” she drawled, vitriol dripping from her tone, “I was tolerant on your last few tasks. This time— this time,” she managed a chuckle, laced with bitterness, “we’re done. The entire facility. Because somehow, _somehow,_ you got the FBI on our tails.”

Andy stiffened, eyes widening, “I— I didn’t—”

“You didn’t know?” she interrupted, a look of disbelief on her face, “bullshit, Beckett. The facility is in danger because of _you,”_ she reiterated, “thousands getting unemployed or arrested, creations set free, our progress taken away from us by force.” she listed, anger rolling off her in waves, “What would you do if you were in my position? Tell me, Andy,” she got up from her seat, pacing around where Andy stood like a predator surrounding their prey. “F— fire me, maybe?” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

Madam Jones raised an eyebrow skeptically, a lopsided smirk on her face, “Fire you? That’s probably the least painful punishment for someone who caused our company’s downfall.” she murmured, and the hairs on the back of Andy’s neck stood on end, “You’d have to consider that we left Nightmare out of the equation for now. Who’s bearing the responsibility for his escape?” she sighed dramatically. Shivers ran down the bespectacled man’s spine, and he swallowed, “S- So you want me to take up the consequences?” Madam Jones’ eyes lit up, a sly grin on her face, “Now, you’re the one insisting. Remember, I didn’t pressure you into saying this,” confusion and anxiety dropped on Andy’s shoulders as Madam Jones returned to her chair. 

“It has been fun working with you for the past 34 years, Andy Beckett.” the supervisor said, tilting her head ever so slightly. Andy’s eyes got impossibly wider, as words failed to form in his mouth, “W—what? I— you’re not—” he took a deep breath, “you can’t be serious.”

He felt a presence appear next to him, but he didn’t react fast enough to acknowledge what happened before something sank in his side. His eyelids drooped, and suddenly he was on the floor, fighting to stay awake. “You better not kill yourself trying to escape your fate,” he heard, with Madam Jones’ towering figure over him, “I would be very much displeased.”

He fell unconscious before he knew it.


	20. Therapy and Negotiations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream healing pog
> 
> i don’t have much to say.. enjoy?

TW: panic attack

The path to recovery is never easy.

When he had fallen and scraped his knee as a child, it had taken a well 6 days for it to heal. George’s memory was muddled, but he still remembered clearly that he had whined and wailed to his mother about the long process. He had gotten shot while he was hunting too, but maybe it didn’t hurt as much because he had grown used to survival and the number of times he had taken damage. It still stung like a bitch, though.

But that was a physical injury. George didn’t know what mental harm the facility had inflicted on his friend, he didn’t know how long mental harm would take to recover, and most importantly he didn’t know how to mend mental damage. If you were to ask George to help heal a stab wound, he would know the fastest and most efficient way possible, talking from experience. What was he supposed to do in Dream’s case? Stitch his brain?

That’s beside the point at the moment, though. Something was off with the blonde, and George berated himself for not observing the change earlier. He assumed it was a kind of defense mechanism, as he was calm, cool and collected back at the facility, but right now, he looked almost.. scared? of them. Probably due to his familiarity with the facility made him feel safe and in his territory, but standing with a bunch of strangers who could potentially turn their backs on you did sound slightly unnerving. If he were to use an analogy, he would probably describe Dream as a snake. 

“You’d have to tell us what happened if you want us to help,” Sapnap muttered, an intense look in his eyes as he stared at Dream. The blonde’s grip on the glass of water he was holding only got stronger, “You— you can’t just expect me to spill everything out to _you,_ ” no one could’ve possibly missed the emphasis on the last word, “I can’t trust you.”

Sapnap sighed, dragging a hand along his face in an irritated manner, “Punz, get him to talk.”

The older man only shrugged, “He talks if he feels comfortable.”

Sapnap ignored him and straightened himself, his hands going to tighten the fabric on his head. It was possible that it was a trick of the light, but George swore he saw Dream flinch when the ravenette moved. “Dream,” Punz must’ve seen it too, “Dream, what’s going on?” Sapnap froze where he was previously reaching upwards, his gaze locked on his friend whose breathing had subconsciously picked up, “Wh— what did I do?”

“No— no, it’s just—” Dream tried to stabilise his heartbeat, his eyes downcast like he was afraid to meet the three’s vision, “I thought— I thought you were going to hit me.”

Silence overtook the three. Since when was Dream, the bold and valiant green clad man, afraid of someone hitting him? 

“Dream,” Punz murmured in an attempt to coax him into saying something, “what happened?”

The blonde seemed to be in a haze for a split second before he blinked, eyebrows furrowing, “I, um— just.. it’s—” he sighed, his stance tense and his face showed distress, “you guys.. hated me. You— you would always point, and laugh, and— and..” he trailed off, his sentence unfinished, but the three didn’t need him to finish to know what he meant, “I asked what I did wrong. Every single time,” he closed his eyes subconsciously, blonde hair falling onto his eyelids as his head was tilted forward, “but— but no one listened. No one.. no one cared.” he paused briefly, letting that sink in before speaking, “I was alone.”

Neither George nor Sapnap had a chance to say anything as Dream quickly continued, slight hysteria to his tone, “And it was dark! It was— I was— there was no food. And— and it was so cold, and so lonely— and I was so scared and everything hurt and—”

“Dream.” Punz’s voice wasn’t commanding, wasn’t harsh, and it was then Dream opened his eyes to meet the three male’s gazes, “We don’t— we can’t possibly comprehend what happened with you back at the facility. But we’re gonna clarify one thing here,” Punz nodded at George, “even if you did cause some damage to L’Manberg and the Dream SMP before, we would never hurt you, Dream.” Sapnap pressed his lips into a thin line, “We can’t force you to trust us completely. But you’d have to believe what we say is true if we’re gonna establish some form of bond,” he leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table in front of him, “take your time. We’re not rushing.”

Dream blinked, torn between relying on someone for once or return to being a lone wolf. He wanted to, he really wanted to, but what if he’d gotten hurt again? Betrayed, backstabbed— the excruciating pain he felt when he was repeatedly tormented in the box, like a thousand honed knives continually impaling him through the heart. It hurt to see his friends just turn their backs on him like that. He wouldn’t— he can’t risk that happening to him once more. 

_But Punz is good. Punz is safe._

If Punz trusted them and Dream trusted Punz.. it can’t be that bad, right?

With a sigh and a hopeful heart, Dream nodded, noting how George and Sapnap seemed to visibly light up at his action, “I— I want to trust you guys. I just— I don’t want to be hurt again,” his voice dropped into a whisper, “please.”

George knew how to heal injuries, but he’s not sure whether he would be able to heal his friend.

———

Tommy sighed as two familiar people approached the border. The only thing standing in their way was the blood ward, and despite knowing these people meant no harm (at least, he thinks) he was still reluctant to lower the barrier. 

“You again,” Tommy bit his insides to stop himself from saying something that came out too harsh, “why’re you here? We gave you all the information you needed.” 

Travis shrugged, giving a hopeful smile. Tommy only blinked once, unconvinced, as his stance turned casual and he leaned on his sword. “No lie, the information was pretty useful. We tracked down the facility’s location,” he stopped, trying to see if anything sparked an interest in Tommy. The blonde didn’t give a single reaction, and quite blatantly just stared at the ravenette with an indifferent expression. Travis huffed, rolling his eyes, “We know Dream’s here. I just want to talk to him.” 

Tommy glanced upward at the ward, before looking back at the FBI agent, feigning sorrow, “It’s not going up. Too bad. Might as well head home—“ 

“We’re not idiots, Tommy.” Maia spoke up beside Travis, a frown on her face, “We’re in the Intelligence section for a reason. Deactivate it.” 

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, and he switched his posture, now giving his sword a few experimental swings, “Listen, Big D’s gone through something that we all can’t help with or understand. The least we can do is let him rest, and maybe talk to someone about this.” the flat side of the sword came to rest on his palm as he held the weapon diagonally, “But that definitely does _not_ include talking to some dangerous agents.” 

Travis went quiet for a few seconds, before his lips parted to speak, “Tommy, do you know what a policeman does?” 

The british narrowed his blue eyes, scrunching up his face, “‘Do you know what a policeman does?’ Yes, of _fucking_ course I do. What do you take me as? An imbecile?” he rubbed his temples in irritation, “We may live without advanced technology and all that shit but that doesn’t mean we don’t know what the outside world is,” he said in a monotone voice, “Get to the point. Why are you here?”

Maia interrupted before Travis could say anything, “We don’t have enough evidence to arrest or establish a search warrant. We need witnesses, if you know the procedures.” 

Tommy hesitated for a moment before relenting, sticking his hand through the barrier. At once, the blood ward lifted, and both agents shuffled in the city’s borders rather awkwardly. Tommy didn’t want them coming in to visit Dream under these circumstances, but if he wanted to put the stupid facility in jail then he had no choice. 

He led the two people deeper and deeper through the city, a contrast to the last time they had been here, which was only by the border. “The city’s really pretty,” Maia commented off-handedly, as if she didn’t say the same thing last time. Tommy snorted, but ignored her and continued onward. 

It was a good five minutes later when they finally reached the base of where Dream stayed. Tommy reached for the wooden door, his fist hovering over the material ever so slightly before knocking thrice, retreating his hand and waited for someone to open the door. 

Sapnap greeted him, but his vision was directed at the two strangers, “Tommy?” 

The sixteen year old scuffed his shoes on the dirt, “They’re the FBI. Here to talk to Dream,” he met the older male’s gaze, “they won’t hurt him. They came last time when you guys left for Big D.”

Sapnap looked wary of them, but let them in the threshold anyway, stepping aside to give them space. 

Tommy assumed the agents didn’t need to ask which one of the men was Dream. They quickly narrowed down the possibilities as their gaze landed on the blonde’s mismatched irises. “Sapnap, what the hell?” he heard George hiss, getting in a defensive stance. Although he looked unarmed, Tommy knew very well that George always kept a spare hunting knife at the back of his pocket. Totally not talking from experience. 

“Hi. I’m Travis Lewis,” he greeted, cringing at the awkwardness, “my associate. Maia Carter. We’re from the Intelligence section in the FBI. We’d just like to speak to Dream.” he finished, his vision tilting a little to glance at the aforementioned man. 

Dream furrowed his eyebrows. Initially, his first impression was that the members of the facility had finally found him and would most likely take him back, but when he saw the difference in clothing choices he’d easily relaxed back in his chair. Despite being completely strangers, Dream had a good feeling about them, “If you’re here to give me a dead threat, you’d better line up and wait for your turn,” he muttered, and three of his friend’s smirks went unnoticed. At least some of Dream’s former snark had returned. 

“Well, no. We’re civil people.” Maia had coughed into the crook of her arm when Travis said that, “In order for us to make an official arrest and initiate a search warrant for the illegal crimes the facility’s done, we need you to take a testimony.” Dream frowned. He had mixed feelings about this already— the facility.. the facility hadn’t actually done any harm to him for all he knew at the moment. Order him to kill, maybe, but nothing serious that had put his life in danger. “I don’t—“ he paused pensively, “I don’t remember. They were only ever nice to me,” he bit his lip, “do experiments count?”

Maia nodded encouragingly, “Nuremberg code. Go ahead.”

Dream ran a hand through his hair, a distant look in his eyes, “I can’t recall what had previously happened to me. But— uh, they did initiate another test on me,” he recounted, “100% kill rate. It— um, it doesn’t affect me much though,” _that was a lie._ “just.. a higher killing accuracy.”

“What they did was immoral and unethical,” Travis murmured, “we need more evidence.” 

Dream’s breathing picked up. What else? What else did they do? An overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over him. The room was suddenly so small, so tight, _so hot?_ , so suffocating—

The box. He was back in the box. 

He looked around wildly, a panicked expression on his face. “No, no, no,” he muttered under his breath, alarm in his eyes. They— they were there. His “friends”. They wanted to hit him, wanted to point and shout and yell and _blame_ him— He tried shutting them out, closing his eyes in an attempt to block out what was coming for him. 

The blow never came. 

Dream cracked his eye open just a bit, trying to see what had happened. His friends’ faces were slowly morphing, distorted, a jumbled mess of colours. It was dark here— but somehow he could still make out their appearances. Sapnap— Sapnap’s features weren’t— they weren’t Sapnap’s. His gray irises weren’t the familiar ones— instead, they were.. _black?_ With a start, Dream realised who the eyes belonged to. There was no mistaking it, and suddenly the misshapen figure had morphed into said man’s appearance, finally taking the form of Zack Davis. 

Dream swivelled his vision, staring at Quackity before his image melted, his features unrecognisable. Gone was the signature navy sweater, replaced by the all- too- familiar white lab coat. A buzz cut took over the LAFD beanie, and Quackity’s height grew. A pair of glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, and in its place was Andy. 

_What was happening?_ Niki blurred and her figure shifted, Julia taking her position. _The facility had always been the people harming him._ Techno’s form flickered and glitched, pale skin fading into a darker hue and Marcus substituted the hybrid. _They lied. The facility lied._ Puffy glanced at him with sympathy, but it quickly dissipated as her eyes switched from a warm blue to cool hazel ones of Madam Jones’. _It’s all fake. Your friends would never hurt you._

Something was pulling him, grabbing his arm. Were they going to hurt him again? He didn’t want to— his friends said they would protect him—

“—Dream. Dream, hey.” That was Punz. Punz was here. “Alright? You spaced out a bit,” he didn’t want to go back, now that he learned of the truth, “Yeah, I’m— I’m fine. Just.. somehow triggered a memory,” he realised that the two agents were still waiting for him to answer. “Sorry. They, uh— they were the ones who— who hurt me. Back at the facility.” Punz, George, Sapnap and Tommy had obviously not expected his answer to come out like that, “Dream, are you—“

“Locked me in a black box. It was um— it was to deprive me of my senses.” Dream interrupted, and George snapped his jaw shut. “I don’t— I don’t know what happened after that. Came back out as Nightmare, I guess. Don’t know how they did it though,” his eyes were downcast as he fiddled with his fingerless gloves. Both Travis and Maia wrote them down, “Right, this is gonna be a bit difficult for you, but can you tell us what effects it had on you?”

There was an intake of breaths, and Dream could see Punz’s lips parting to say something, when he beat the older man to it, “Hallucinations. I was— I had hallucinations,” he mumbled, ignoring the frowns and looks his friends sent him, “I.. guess I couldn’t exactly feel things for a short while. Malnutrition. They gave me little to no food,” he took in a trembling breath, “um.. claustrophobia. I’m not exactly a fan of tight spaces. Maybe a little nyctophobia. I don’t know.” He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

The scribbling came to a halt, and Dream inclined his head to see the agents closing their notebooks, “Thanks. Anything else you’d like to add?”

Dream inhaled sharply, “Don’t underestimate them.”

Travis seemed slightly confused but Maia nodded, “Advice taken. Have a nice day.” 

Tommy bade the four older males and escorted the two agents back to the city’s borders, once again raising the ward’s barriers so they could get across unharmed. Maia waved to him once they were out but Tommy could honestly care less to return the gesture. He only hoped the agents would do what they said.

———

“I thought you wanted to ask Dream whether he would fight with us or not,” Maia mused, trudging down the hill. Travis only shrugged, “He really did look lost. He’ll need to recover from whatever trauma he’s gone through,” he murmured, “besides, he’s just a twenty one year old. Good assassin or not, he’d get hurt in the crossfire.” Maia raised an eyebrow skeptically, the corners of her lips twitching upwards, “Since when did you care about someone else’s safety?”

Travis grinned, “Since I learned that I can take credit for most solved cases.”

Maia’s expression darkened, “Oh, you son of a bitch.”


	21. It All Comes Down to This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i KNOW i said ill update every one or two days but you'll see why this update took forever 
> 
> this chapter is ??? i don't know how to describe 
> 
> there's like,, 6.2k words 
> 
> its so bad please 🤠 im gonna yeet myself out of here

Footsteps thundered on the oak flooring, the sound fading as quick as it had come. Fundy’s ears pricked up at the sound, his eyes alert as he paused what he was originally doing. “Tubs? Is that you?” 

There was a giggle next to him and the teen appeared, a slight pant to his laugh, “Hey,” he bent over as he tried to catch his breath, all the while receiving a playful glare from Fundy, “Got yourself in trouble again? What did you do this time?”

Tubbo straightened himself, clearing his throat, “Well, you know how we each take a turn watching over Dream just in case he panics or goes batshit insane?” a nervous chuckle escaped his chapped lips, and Fundy noticed how the younger male kept fidgeting and fiddling with his fingers, a sign that the hybrid knew what it represented— Tubbo was hiding something. Fundy’s tail swished anxiously, startling the sixteen year old, “Well, Tubbo? Go on, don’t leave me hanging.” the brunette probably heard it, too— the tease in his tone had disappeared, seriousness washing over it. Tubbo swallowed, now toying with the collar of his green shirt, “Um.. he kinda.. teleported away?” it came out more of a question than a statement. 

Fundy sighed, his ears flattening. “Where did he go, then?” he glanced at the teen, who had suddenly gone pale with the question in thought, “See, I’ve been trying to find him for the past three hours. I’m pretty confident I’ve ran through the entire L’Manberg, but I still can’t find him.” he shifted on his feet, his gaze brooding as he stared aimlessly at the ground, “I.. I don’t think he’s here, Fundy.”

The fox frowned, tail lashing side to side agitatedly, “Have you talked to anyone else? Punz? George?” his expression fell when he saw the younger male slowly shake his head, comprehending what Fundy had said, “I— I was too caught up in trying to locate him. I guess I kinda got carried away..” he stiffened, inclining his head up towards the hybrid, “I didn’t mean to! I— I was panicking and— and..” he stuttered. The fox could never be angry at Tubbo in situations like these. He placed his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder instead, and the teen instinctively looked up, albeit confused. Fundy shook his head, only setting his items down and guided Tubbo away in search for somebody, anybody to talk to. 

“Oh, thank god. Puffy,” Fundy called, cupping his snout with his hands to magnify his voice. Puffy raised her head, tilting her head to a side as she stopped what she was doing, a smile on her face, “Hey. What’s up?”

Tubbo shrugged and offered a timid grin, but didn’t speak. Fundy vocalised his thoughts, “He was in charge for looking after Dream. Somehow managed to lose him,” he shot a scowl at the younger male for not admitting himself. Puffy arched her eyebrows, but the look she gave was almost like she’d expected it to happen, “Alright, Tubs. How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” she set down the items she was previously holding in a chest beside her, dusting off her hands. Tubbo blinked, registering what she’d just said, “Three hours. I left him to get food but when I returned he’d gone,” 

“Two hours?” the woman echoed, “That’s.. much longer than I’d anticipated it to be. I think we need to map out where he could’ve possibly gone.” she murmured, lost in thought as the three of them made their way to where the majority of the people were, “It was almost like he waited for Tubbo to be on duty, then disappear right in front of our noses.” Puffy frowned, furrowing her eyebrows and Fundy caught on to what she was hinting at, “You mean he wanted to.. get away from us?” 

Puffy winced, noting how bad that sounded in Dream’s case, “Well, not necessarily. No,” she sighed, and Tubbo halted with her as they waited for her elaboration on the statement, “look at it this way— he hadn’t teleported away in two months during recovery. Which isn’t saying a lot, but I’m pretty confident he feels safe with us.” she bit her lip, glancing at Fundy, then to Tubbo, “I don’t know. It’s all just my speculation, anyway,” she continued onward, the other two males’ footsteps thudding rhythmically on the prime path as they trailed behind her. 

“I’m not getting it,” Tubbo mumbled, directing his gaze away from the adults’ vision, “you mean, he didn’t vanish because of us? That there’s some other reason?” his voice sounded so small and guilty, laced with a trace of hope, like he was so sure it was his fault for their friends’ disappearance. Puffy’s shoulders loosened, a sympathetic expression on her face, “Dream.. Dream’s a pretty straightforward person. He would’ve voiced out his thoughts to us,” she slowed her pace, swivelling her head around to see if there was anyone that could help them. Her mood instantly brightened when her eyes landed on a specific someone, and she beckoned the other two with her arm, bounding over to Bad’s direction. 

“Hi,” Bad greeted them, his demon tail hovering in the air, “is there a problem?”

This time Tubbo spoke up, “We lost Dream,” the fact that his voice ended in a high-pitched tone made both Puffy and Fundy mentally slap themselves. Bad raised an eyebrow, glancing at the two adults, and then the teen, and then back at the two adults, as if saying _is this a joke?_ Fundy shook his head, huffing, “He meant it. We need to find the others; they’ll probably freak out if they found out themselves.” Tubbo nodded, a weak smile on his lips as he quietly thanked the fox hybrid for supplying the context. Puffy chimed in, “We have to figure out where he’d possibly go, too. We have to at least have a lead at where he went.”

“I can try to gather the people. I don’t think I’ll be of much help in figuring out where Dream had gone,” he piped up, scuffing the ground. Before any of them could say anything, Tubbo had already rushed off, his yells heard in the distance as he attempted to get Eret’s and Niki’s attention. Bad squinted at the little dot that was the teen slowly fade into the houses and buildings. He shook the thought off and turned to the two that were still standing beside him, waiting for him to say something, “Well, surely we have to retrace our steps. Have any of you seen Dream today?” he queried, starting towards the community house. Puffy glanced at Fundy, who only rolled his shoulders in response, “I haven’t. I saw him yesterday, though. He looked fine to me.”

“I saw him this morning,” she pursed her lips, her gaze distracted as she stared at the brick building looming before her in all its glory, an awed look on her face. The community house was a kind of symbol for the city, bar the flag. She’d seen it here on the SMP when she’d arrived, already taken a liking to it before even exploring the inside of it. “He was fine, like Fundy had said. Nothing much out of the ordinary,” she murmured, stepping through the threshold as Bad held the door. He beelined to a specific chest, taking out a piece of paper and a quill, frowning initially at the traditional stationery before shrugging, rummaging for ink, closing the chest and using it as a temporary table.

The sound of metal against paper ricocheted off the walls while Fundy and Puffy sat silently beside Bad as he scribbled down the information, careful not to apply too much pressure to the fragile paper as he was afraid it would break. “Reminds me of the papers laying around his room,” Fundy mumbled out of the blue, suddenly remembering he had this clue floating in his mind, hidden somewhere, “I thought he was writing something, but it didn’t look handwritten. It was like those.. documents, y’know?” he ended quietly, picking at the cuffs of his jacket in an attempt to ease the awkwardness.

“Well,” Bad said, trying to ask a crucial question that would jostle Fundy’s memory, “any keywords on the paper that you remember seeing?” he tried, turning to look at the fox. Fundy’s ears flicked, a habit of his when he was feeling skittish or uneasy. His eyes seemed to have blanked as he stared straight in front of him pointlessly, “‘Join us’. I think there was also ‘recovery’? ‘Dire’ and ‘help’.” he knitted his brows together, his tail swaying just above the floor in a perturbed manner, “You don’t think..?”

“No,” Puffy interrupted, determination shining in her eyes. _Determined about what, though?_ ”he’s not— it’s impossible.” she didn’t further refine her remark, only remaining reticent. Bad coughed into the crook of his arm in an effort to break the awkward tension, “Okay, we’ll start there, then,” his eyes raked down the list of words he had written down, an eyebrow raised as he tried to decipher them. The demon pressed his lips into a thin line, a conflicted expression on his face, “I, um— I don’t think we’re getting anywhere with this.”

Fundy snorted and Puffy scoffed. 

The door to the community house flung open, and a panting Tubbo stood at the entrance, a crowd of people behind him. Bad grinned, getting up to his feet with the paper and quill still on him as he approached them, “That was fast, Tubs. Have you told them?”

Judging by the look the brunette gave him, Bad guessed not. 

“What’s happening?” Quackity narrowed his eyes, axe in hand as he leaned on the doorframe, his stance casually poised but it was obvious that he was tense underneath all the nonchalance his posture held. George raised his goggles to have them sit on top of his head, “Bad?” he muttered, his arms crossed in front of him and his head tipped to his right curiously, “What’s going on? Where’s Dream?”

The question hit home, and a pang of guilt washed over the three of them like a tidal wave. Tubbo gulped, creasing his eyebrows as he bit his lip, “I think I should’ve said something sooner.” he mumbled, ignoring how everyone shot him an inquisitive look. “Tubbo? What are you saying?” Tommy asked, shouldering past the people that had crowded to the entrance to get to his friend, “What did you do? Where’s Dream?”

“It’s not Tubbo’s fault,” Fundy spoke up, redirecting his gaze somewhere else, “well, not entirely his fault. Dream’s gone.” before anyone could interrupt, Puffy carried on with Fundy’s statement, taking it up from there, “Listen, Dream hadn’t even tried to teleport in two entire months, why would he do so now?” it took the crowd a brief moment to process what Puffy had meant. With the problem laid down in their heads now, they took the question into consideration. Why _did_ Dream choose to disappear specifically during Tubo’s turn to watch over him?

Bad sighed, holding up the parchment that he had noted with Fundy and Puffy, “While Tubbo was rounding you guys up, we got some stuff down. It might help us.” he gestured for them to come inside, heading up towards the stairs so they could properly set everything down. The demon lay what they had on their hands right now on the table, stepping away so the rest could see. As the crowd dissipated and found a spot around the long wooden counter, Bad took up the position to speak again, “So, here’s what we have now. Any ideas?”

Surprisingly it was Eret who answered, “I say we split up, like last time? We’re not entirely sure if he’s in L’Manberg or not right?” they said, snapping their sunglasses shut and hanging them on the collar of their shirt. Their glowing white eyes scanned the group, “We don’t know what the facility’s like right now. Who knows? Maybe they found a way to get in our borders without us knowing.” 

Wilbur nodded slowly, rubbing his chin as he contemplated Eret’s words, “I agree. That’s the least we can do right now. We don’t have much information, anyway.”

Bad clasped his hands together, beaming, “We have a plan.”

———

“It’s been two hours. We’re not accomplishing anything.” Karl murmured, collapsing on the grass, his sword laying beside him. Sapnap scowled at his friend’s weak durability, “Dude, stand up. It’s not that tiring,” he poked Karl’s side with the end of his sword, and the brunette rolled to his right dramatically, curling up as he avoided Sapnap’s prodding. 

“Quit fooling around,” Techno muttered, but the two turned a deaf ear on the hybrid as they resumed their banter, Niki chuckling at their antics. “I kind of agree. The others are probably back at the community house already. Let’s go—” Techno stopped her, his ears picking up some noise. Everyone went silent instantly. Even Karl and Sapnap had stopped bickering. 

Techno unsheathed his weapon, his stance stiff as he slowly got closer to the noise, his grip on the hilt of his axe tightening with every step. “Anyone there?” he whispered, letting the air carry his voice. The rustling paused, and Techno cursed himself for speaking on a whim. He was prepared to jump whatever was behind the undergrowth and trees when a figure stepped out. Techno’s eyes widened, momentarily loosening his hold on his weapon. 

Sapnap reacted the quickest, beelining towards the green clad man in front of them, “Oh my god, Dream. Where— how— why—” he had so many questions to ask, his mind had temporarily short- circuited, “Where have you been?” he decided on the most general question, glancing at his friend who looked pretty worn out and not to mention— bloody. 

“I— I’ll answer that later, Sap.” he muttered, pushing past the group of four, making his way towards the city centre. Karl frowned, “You’re _limping._ Dream, what the fuck.” 

If Dream heard, he only ignored the brunette, but hastening his pace as the four people trailed after him. “I’ll go tell the others,” Niki whispered quietly and slipped away, going the opposite direction. 

“Dream,” Sapnap caught up to his friend, stopping him in his tracks. Dream sighed, ceasing his steps, eyeing Sapnap in a disapproving manner, “I’m covered in blood.” he stated bluntly, eyes not leaving the ravenette’s gray ones, _”I need to shower.”_ he enunciated each word slowly, pushing away the arm that was Sapnap’s to get away. Techno blocked his way this time, and the dirty blonde could only glare at him from under his bangs. “Move,” he murmured, too tired to make a valid argument, “please.” 

Karl rolled his eyes, speaking up for the three of them, “You’re not telling us what happened, Dream. You can’t just expect all of us to accept that you’re gone, and now you’re back here, _covered in blood.”_ he put emphasis on the last three words, his eyebrows knitted as he stared at the freckled man, “We’re worried. You’re just— you’re pushing us away again.”

Dream’s gaze softened, forcing down the guilt that was bubbling up his insides, “I thought I’d just be gone for an hour or so. It took me longer than expected, but I’m _fine.”_ he ducked under Techno’s arm and continued onward, putting as little weight as he could on his right leg. It was fairly easy for the other three to catch up, due to Dream’s disadvantage with the injured leg, “You’re fucking stumbling on your feet,” Sapnap scowled, “and you said you were fine. This looks _nothing_ like fine to me.” 

“Stop babying me, Sap,” the blonde commented, setting his left foot on the ground again as he walked, ignoring the white-hot pain that flared up his leg whenever he took another step forward, “See? I’m fine.” he muttered, returning his gaze to the road in front of him. 

Techno snorted, knowing Dream was just putting on a show for them to prove his point, “Okay, well, you still haven’t told us what happened. I don’t know about you, but I’d be concerned if someone’s walking with blood all over themselves.”

“I know,” Dream replied, not further contributing to his statement. Techno’s eyes widened with incredulity at how smoothly his supposed nemesis had avoided his question. 

“Oh, no, no, no. You’re not giving us any information. You’re not getting a shower.” Dream was about to propose how they were gonna stop him when Techno swept the blonde off his feet swiftly, earning a surprised yelp from the other male. “Put me—” he tried to speak, but Techno broke into a run. Dream tried to speak through the wind that was now buffeting on his skin, making it harder for him to say something. They reached the community house in no time, Karl pushing the doors open and Techno practically sprinted up the stairs. 

Wilbur looked up from where he was lounging on his chair, being the last group to return just before Sapnap’s group. A startled gasp escaped his throat as he thrashed in his seat, nearly toppling over, “You guys actually found him? Where was he?” 

Dream muttered something under his breath as he was let go, finding the nearest chair and sliding into it. “He _wasn’t_ within the borders. He wouldn’t tell us where he went or why he’s.. doused with blood head to toe.” Karl explained, discarding his weapon to the corner of the room. Puffy handed him a sandwich and he thanked her for it, “Well, Dream. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Almost all eyes were on him. He averted his vision mostly because he was afraid what his friends might be hinting in their gaze, “Everything would be more comfortable if you’d let me at least take a bath, you know?” he mumbled, picking at the dried blood that crusted beneath his fingernails. “I was just out of L’Manberg for a short while. I had.. something to do,” he offered faintly, dodging the general problem, “I was just out longer than I had planned. It’s nothing, really. I’m here, aren’t I?” Dream murmured. 

“You’re missing the point here,” George grumbled, his goggles set on the table in front of him. Dream had seen the older man without wearing his glasses before, but it was mostly when he was annoyed or vexed, and wanted other people to see that he was serious behind those frames. “You’re just— you leave us for what, five hours? And you expect us to be fine with it? Like we hadn’t just spent half the day searching for you?” pissed off George was a rare occurrence, and Dream knew that, “Explain yourself, Dream. Stop avoiding the question.” Dream’s stomach dropped; why did he feel like some rebellious kid who disobeyed their parents?

He huffed, relenting, leaning back against the spine of the chair, “Fine. _You_ guys asked for it.”

———

 _”I’m getting something for us, Dream! Don’t— don’t go anywhere, yeah?” Tubbo mumbled the last part, a nervous tinge to his tone, “I’m_ so _gonna be in trouble if you do,” he added, glancing at the older man. Dream only grinned, waving him off, “I’ll be fine, Tubs. It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere in particular. Nor will anyone get in the borders, right?” Tubbo only blinked at him, nodding slowly to his words, “Right..” he headed for the door, taking one last glance at Dream before vanishing behind the wooden material, out of sight._

 _Dream waited for a minute or so, before he hopped off his bed, peeking out the window to check that no one was there, and closed the curtains. He turned to the ender chest that he had hidden right beside his bed, hidden by the fabric and quilt of the mattress. He scoured through the items he held in there, finally grabbing what he needed. “Gotcha,” Dream muttered, flipping over the papers as he scanned the words row after row. He raised his head to glance at the clock just as it chimed._ 11.00. _He skimmed through the papers once again, before opening the ender chest, shoving the documents back in it again and locked it._

_Dream put his arms out in front of him, flexing his fingers tentatively. Purple sparks flew out his fingertips, fizzing and flickering. He smirked, closing his eyes for a brief moment and he felt the world shift. The next time he opened his eyes, he was right outside L’Manberg’s borders._

_“Hey,” he turned to the familiar voice, coming face- to- face with Travis. He smiled at him as Dream approached him, “Hi,” he murmured, shaking hands with the FBI agent. They started their journey towards the urban area after their greeting._

_They were silent as they walked, only starting up conversation once they entered the forest. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” Travis commented, kicking away the stray weed in his way. Dream only laughed, slicing away the brambles and thickets with his dagger, “No. Why would I pass up such a great opportunity? Plus, this is a one- time thing. I wouldn’t be getting another shot at this,”_

_Travis managed a chuckle, glancing upwards at the sky, “Kind of expected you’d say something similar. I just thought— well, your friends would.. y’know, stop you from coming?” the agent remarked off- handedly, stepping over vines and entwined stems, nearly tripping over a single bark that was sticking out. Dream shrugged, moving easily between the obstacles in the dense forest, “I didn’t tell them.”_

_The FBI agent paused momentarily, his eyes widened and his lips parted like a fish, “You— you didn’t tell them? Dream, buddy, I’m getting killed the next time I step foot in L’Manberg territory.” Dream brushed him off, offering a small smile, “It’s not like something’s bad gonna happen to me. They’ll be fine with me gone for an hour or so,” Travis didn’t speak, only continuing onwards. He knew_ very well _that Dream’s friends wouldn’t take this the right way._

_They trudged through the woodland, all the while keeping up small talk. Soon, they arrived at their destination._

_“They should be here already. I’ll introduce you to them,” Travis mumbled, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘pardon’s as they mingled with the crowd, finally making their way to the front where a group of people wearing protective, holding rifles and guns as they stood, poised at the entrance of none other than the facility. “You should gear up, too. I would appreciate it if I could walk around with my head intact,” Travis said, handing a handgun to Dream. The blonde pursed his lips, weighing the weapon in his hands. “I think I’ll stick to knives.”_

_When Dream had finished picking the best knives that suit him, he turned to find the FBI agent conversing with someone else. Travis noticed him, and beckoned him over, “This is the captain of the SWAT team, Liam.” Dream tilted his head, but shook hands with the man anyway, “Dream.” he replied. Liam only dipped his head in reply. Travis clapped his hands together, “Right, I’ll leave you two. Good luck!”_

_As the agent left them, Liam instantly gave Dream a rundown of their plan as of now, “We have people surrounding the building. They’re trapped,” he gestured to the crowd that was circling the tall infrastructure. Dream hummed, twirling a blade between his fingers, “These people will be guarding the outside in case someone inside escapes, right?” he asked, his mismatched eyes analysing the formation they have currently. Liam nodded, “There’ll be two more teams going in with us. Agent Lewis said that you both came to a compromise?” Dream dipped his head in agreement. “Very well,” he patted Dream on the shoulder, moving to set his helmet in place and he grabbed his gun from a nearby stand, testing the telescope attached at the top of the weapon, “Don’t get hurt. We’re going in,” the captain said the last part through his intercom, receiving murmurs of acknowledgement through the earpiece._

_Liam kicked down the door, instantly on guard as he held his gun at eye level, back to back with Dream as the blonde held the glock Travis had given him, aimed straightforward in case someone attacked. “Clear,” Liam whispered, and he made a pulling gesture with his fingers, signalling the other two teams to move._

_“Remember, set all victims free. We’ll separate them into groups after we’re done,” Liam muttered into his intercom, directing the teams to go opposite directions to cover more ground. “Don’t attack Dream. He’s our ally, green hoodie, dirty blonde, heterochromatic eyes—” his voice died off as Dream left his side, exploring the rest of the West Wing by himself. Alarms were faintly blaring in the distance, and the lights along the hallway were flickering on and off._

_Footsteps. There were footsteps. Dream turned just in time as a knife jabbed at his side, narrowly missing the blonde’s head if he hadn’t teleported away. Dream scowled, grabbing his dagger from his back pocket and advanced forward. The person who attacked him didn’t seem fazed, instead he brought out the knife too, pushing himself off the ground and clashed with Dream’s dagger. Both stood their ground for a few seconds, before Dream teleported away. The man’s eyes widened, losing his balance and he hit the wall, groaning at the impact._

_Dream appeared next to him, leaning against the wall in a smug manner, “Hope you’ll enjoy hell,” he whispered, and the man crumpled to the ground, a knife stuck in his abdomen._

_The blonde glanced at the corpse blankly, and sighed, twisting the knife in the man’s stomach once more before he pulled it out, viscera and organs pooling beneath the man. Dream made a face as he cleaned the weapon with the hem of his shirt, stepping away from the body and continuing forward._

_There was a screech. Dream didn’t react fast enough._

_Pain flared up at his side and he hissed, turning his head at an angle to see his arm bleeding. It was, thankfully, just a graze, but it restricted his movement as more blood would be drawn out. His fingers found the grip of the gun that was latched on his hip, and he shot without warning, pulling the trigger the instant he heard something move. A thud, and Dream reloaded his gun, setting it back to its holster._

_The lights onward had been completely cut off of any electricity. The corridor was dark, and Dream was starting to reconsider his choice of pathing. Sure, two months in recovery had done him wonders; healing old wounds and getting over his fears. Heck, he thought he was fine, too, until he wandered deeper into the hallways that were getting more and more foreign to him. Shivers went down his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The blonde took a few more strides forward, foot after foot. There was a soft whoosh, like the sound of an object moving against force. Dream punched the air, and his fist connected with someone’s nose._

_“God, damn it.” someone muttered under their breath, probably trying to ease the blood that was dripping down their nostrils. Dream scoffed, his fingers sparking purple bits as it lit up the dark place. The blonde’s eyes widened once they realised who it was._

_“Zack?”_

_The brunette looked up, scowling. “Nightmare.”_

_Dream took an involuntary step backwards, feeling the wall behind him as his back pressed against the material, “I thought you were my friend,” his voice wasn’t trembling, but anyone could've heard the underlying hurt, “why?”_

_Zack ignored him and shifted his position. A second later, he had his gun held out in front of him, aimed directly at Dream’s chest._

_Dream vanished just as Zack pulled the trigger._

_His heartbeat was going fast— too fast for his liking. “Stay still, would you?” Zack growled, turning around and trying to find where Dream had disappeared to._

_“I don’t want to kill you,” he grit out, popping up behind Zack and raised his arms placatingly, “you’re making everything harder for me.”_

_“That’s good, isn’t it?” Zack replied, reloading his gun as he tightened his grip on the weapon, “dying would make everything easier. You know that,”_

_Dream vanished again, appearing a few metres away from the brunette and the blonde broke into a sprint, going back the direction he came. Maybe his mind was too preoccupied with what he was going to do with Zack or too busy remembering which way he took to get here, when a bang resounded off the walls, and Dream tripped, teleporting away just as he hit the floor. He landed a bit further from where he was previously at, quickly regaining his balance and continued forward, neglecting the fact that a bullet was embedded in his calf._

_He ran and ran and ran. The lights had gone up again so he assumed he was back on the right track, and his hypothesis was correct when he heard gunshots getting louder and louder in the distance. More thumping against the ground. Dream didn’t dare look back to see what was awaiting him. He took a sharp turn, barely having a moment to rest before gunshots echoed in his ears again, and he was forced to move._

_There were more people behind him. He was sure of it._

_Dream was closing in on the entrance now, and if he didn’t make a move soon, he would really miss the opportunity to. With a pant, he vanished._

_The footsteps ceased. Zack arched an eyebrow, his gun held firmly in his grip as he and his other accomplices spread out the area. It was an advantage to them as they now had more people and an actual light source. “Nightmare,” he murmured, the empty halls reflecting his voice off the walls, “don’t make it harder than it already is.”_

_He never saw it coming._

_Nightmare was an assassin, the best assassin the facility had ever created. It was no secret that he was good at what he does, but Zack had never been a victim of Nightmare’s. It was almost like he’d never thought it’d happen, like he’d always believe in the fact that Nightmare would be there to help fend off enemies if the facility needed him. Zack never actually noticed, too caught up in his own thoughts as his associates fell, one by one, the ringing in his ears magnifying. It was when he felt something cold enter his skin did he realise what had happened._

_The dirty blonde closed his eyes as he held his position, tilting the angle of the blade so as to ensure he would be able to fully end Zack’s life. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the brunette as he watched his charcoal eyes unfocus, losing sight of the person in front of him. A moment passed, and the older man’s heartbeat slowed until it stopped, clarifying his death._

_Dream said nothing, only lowering Zack’s body to the ground and left him there, not looking back. He had one more thing to do before he could finally rest._

_The blonde walked closer to the entrance, noting how the fight seemed to be more on the East Wing than the West Wing. He frowned, hand moving over to his gun as he took cautious steps forward, careful not to trip or anything. Despite the metal that was still in his leg, he really couldn’t care much, having only one thing on his mind right now._

_Shots fired near him. Dream’s teleportation failed._

_It was a split second decision, really. Dream didn’t even know his powers were able to do that. He turned on impulse, holding his hands in front of him as he focused on the energy that tingled on the tips of his fingers, sending electricity down his spine. He moved, and the bullets followed his direction colliding with the wall._

_“Oh my god, you dipshit,” it was a female voice, “he has trajectory manipulation—”_

_Dream didn’t catch the rest as rubble fell on them, the remains of the wall crashing against the floor. Dust and debris filled his vision, fogging up his eyes. Dream coughed, twisting and turning to escape the infrastructure that had fallen. Light sparked at the corner of his vision, and he teleported out the mess, spluttering. There was movement, and this time the blonde was prepared, twirling the blades in his hands and threw them towards the opposite direction. He knew he had hit his target, judging from the grunts he heard as the dust cleared, revealing three more people he thought he knew._

_His knives had Marcus and Julia pinned to the wall, but Madam Jones remained on the ground, still armed. Dream would never forget the day he saw fear being evident in the supervisor’s eyes as she held her handgun futilely, arms positioned in front of her. Dream raised an eyebrow, moving in a swift motion and a second later the weapon was kicked to a side, and the woman was left to defend herself._

_“You’re supposed to stand on our side,” Madam Jones had the nerve to say, and Dream tilted his head in a mocking manner, incredulity in his eyes, “That’s bullshit. Look at me— look at what you did to a man, a child,” he gestured to himself, taking little notice of the blood that had covered his attire head to toe, “you locked me in— in that thing!” Dream hissed, pointing at nowhere in particular, “And for what purpose? To satisfy your own fucking needs. To— to fabricate me into something I’m not.”_

_Madam Jones tried to reach for the gun, but Dream stepped in her way, his gun pointed at her head. She scowled, still defiant, “You were made to be a killer. You always have been one.” she bit out, a bitter expression on her face, “We only gave you a push. Enhanced you,” she had her lip curled back into a snarl, “I’m sure that’s not how you’re supposed to thank your saviours.”_

_Dream glared daggers at her, disgusted, “You’re sick,”_

_She laughed, “Exactly like how you kill.”_

_He bit back a retort. In the heat of the moment, he made his decision. Flicking his blade he had hidden near his ankle, he directed the tip at Madam Jones’ neck, forcing the other woman to incline her head upwards to avoid being killed instantly. Dream added pressure to the weapon, and the blade drew blood, earning a strangled gasp from the supervisor._

_“Slicing your head off is the least painful death for all the things you’ve done to me,” Dream growled out, purple and green fire igniting in his eyes. Madam Jones choked on her own blood, her senses slowly failing her. Despite her situation, she couldn’t help but chuckle, crimson liquid bubbling up her throat, “End me. It’ll only add to the list of people you’ve killed in cold blood. Numbers don't matter to you anyw—”_

_Her head hit the ground before she could finish her sentence. Dream dropped her corpse on the ground, giving it a kick before turning to the exit, choosing to ignore the two people that were still hung on the wall, their pleas forgotten as he stepped out the front door._

_Liam was already there, his eyebrows arched in surprise as he drank in Dream’s appearance. The blonde took no notice, only nodding to the captain, “You got everyone out of there?” Liam dipped his head to signal he did. “Blow it up.” the comment was so casual it almost caught the SWAT leader off guard, “Are you sure?” he seemed hesitant as he glanced at the building, creasing his eyebrows as he did so. Dream only shrugged, “The insides might as well be used as a cemetery. The walls are down. The East Wing is in flames,” he winced as the pain finally rushed back to him at full force, now giving attention to his wounded arm and leg. The captain sighed at his statement, pressing a finger near his temple as he muttered something through his intercom._

_Only a second later, a rumble resounded, followed by a cacophony of explosions. Dream stood, scarlet flames reflecting in his eyes as he watched the building blow up, fires sparking from the bombs as it brought the electricity and lights with it. The inferno consumed the architecture in waves, the formerly white walls gradually turning black from the scorching embers, the charring now permanent. He sat there silently, observing the last of the facility being devoured by the velvet tongues._

_He should at least be feeling some sort of.. remorse? for destroying the building. Guilt. He should be feeling guilty. His childhood home— the only place that held ties to his family, now gone. Everything in ashes._

_But it was fine._

_Because home is not a place, but rather, the people you love._


	22. The End, Probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream’s song is pog 😔✋🏻✋🏻
> 
> sorry for the wait! also happy lunar new year to you if you’re celebrating it (or if you’re chinese/ asian?? yeah ok anyway-) 
> 
> enjoy

_”.. had been completely demolished. Firefighters had taken 24 hours to fully put out the fire. No sign of life was found in the facility. What actually happened there, Amy?”_

_“Well, Jake, I’m glad you asked. Apparently, human experiments had been carried out there. That’s right— people there actually run tests on humans. The FBI had been tracking down their anonymous threat for 34 years but to no avail, until Intelligence agents Lewis and Carter had successfully reached their location. Reportedly, Andy Beckett was responsible for the case. He admitted that the facility had in fact trialed on live human beings in hopes to create a perfect killer to do their bidding. That’s quite cruel, to be honest.”_

_“Right, and as of now, their failed creations have been sent to the FBI headquarters. We have yet to confirm what the FBI would do to them, but we’re assured that the agents can take it up from there. As for the fire, it was reported that the SWAT team had been sent to help take down the people inside. A bomb was detonated and that was the main reason why the building was left broken and scorched. Oh, by the way, would you explain where or what happened to their only known successful creation, Amy?”_

_“Definitely. According to agent Lewis, the facility’s only known functioning creation who will remain unnamed, is in a safe place away from the city. Agent Carter emphasised that they were on good terms with the deadly assassin, and if he were to strike, the FBI will absolutely take him down. Additionally, citizens are asked to stay away from the infrastructure as rubble might fall and injure more people, and the government apologises for any inconvenience caused. For more details on the change of route, you can visit the web page of…”_

“Look, Big D, you’re on the news,” Tommy whispered, and Dream only gave a small grin, feigning a punch to Tommy’s shoulder. The younger blonde held his arm in mock pain, murmuring how the hit was too hard and how he could practically feel his muscles ripping from under the fabric of his shirt. Dream rolled his eyes, paying no attention to the teen. They were out of L’Manberg, supposedly because Tommy kept on whining how Tubbo and him were tired and bored of just walking around the city. With Dream being the only person who was actually familiar with the urban areas, he took up the responsibility of looking after the two, which is how they had ended up in this fast food restaurant that he didn’t know the name of. 

Tubbo bounded up to them, a drink in his hands as he sat down in the booth, “Look what I have that you don’t,” he slurped the liquid in his hands as he drank in Tommy’s expression. The younger blonde scoffed, swirling the coke in his fingers, “That doesn’t matter. I have this,” he sipped from the can, only to realise that he had a few drops left. Dream ignored Tubbo’s laughter and Tommy’s whining as he spaced out, instead concentrating on the voice of the news reporter once again. 

_”.. mysterious man on the loose. According to forensic pathologists from local hospitals, it was said that the victims’ death were all unexplainable. Initially, the cause was deemed as poison, but after thorough inspection, experts think otherwise. The man is said to be most active during the night, where he usually attacks people who are alone. The government suggests citizens not to stay up too late to avoid being his next target. Stay safe, and stay at home.”_

_“Affirmative, Jake. Here’s a photo of the man taken by an anonymous person. Keep your children with you. Don’t wander around deserted areas. Stay safe.”_

The voice of the reporter died down and was replaced with Tubbo yelling this time (since when did Tubbo yell?), “Tommy, give it back!” the brunette huffed, frustrated, as he reached forward to try and snatch the drink back. Tommy pulled back once Tubbo’s hand was at his limit, a teasing smile on his face, “You started it. It’s only fair if I get to taste it.”

“Alright, guys, split it up,” Dream sighed, grabbing the drink from Tommy’s hand and returned it to Tubbo, who held it protectively in his hands. Tommy stuck his lower lip out like a pampered child, and Dream couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he pulled out some cash, “Go get something for yourself. Don’t spend it all on coke,” he warned, and Tommy nodded fervently, rushing to the cashier. Tubbo sat on the seat opposite to the blonde contently, finally enjoying his drink in peace. 

Dream hummed to himself, fiddling with his fingers as he listened to the boy opposite him noisily slurp up his drink. “Dream?” Tubbo piped up, setting the now finished smoothie in front of him. The blonde looked up, “Hmm?”

“Nothing, well,” the teen seemed hesitant, “are you okay?”

Dream blinked, then shook his head, a smile on his lips, “Why— Why, Tubbo, why would you ask that?” 

“You seem dazed back there,” he averted his gaze away from the older man, “I saw the news when I was purchasing my drink. I don’t know. Are you alright?”

Dream went quiet for a few seconds, “No. I’m not,” he forced a grin, looking up to meet Tubbo’s frown, “but I’ll be fine. I can cope.” Tubbo seemed ready to protest, judging by his defensive posture, “Talk to someone,” he stressed, his eyebrows knit together, “we can help you—”

“No, Tubbo, I swear I’m fine.” Dream turned the younger’s suggestion down, his voice signalling finality. He leant back, clasping his hands in front of him, “What’s taking Tommy so long?” he muttered, but Tubbo heard him. “Do you want me to check on him?”

Dream shook his head, getting to his feet, “We’re going together. We have to leave anyway,” he took Tubbo by the wrist, leading him to where the cashiers were. 

After around five minutes of searching, they still couldn’t find the loud teen. 

“He’s not in the bathroom,” Tubbo mumbled, a frantic look in his eyes, “he’s gone. He’s gone, Dream. He’s—” Dream cut him off after that, pulling the brunette out of the restaurant. Dream didn’t know what caused him to turn right the instant he had stepped foot on the pavement. Trusting his instincts weren’t always the best, talking from how it had literally almost got him killed. He shook his head, clearing his mind and decided to follow it this time, crossing his fingers in hopes it wasn’t some sort of sick joke. 

A flash of blonde caught his eye, and without thinking, he teleported. Tubbo stumbled behind him, trying to catch up to the man in front of him as Dream broke into a sprint, taking a sharp turn and entered an alley. 

Tommy was struggling against a stranger’s grip, and with a start, Dream realised the man’s appearance fitted the mysterious man on the news. His heart raced in his chest, threatening to explode. If Tommy died, Dream would never forgive himself. 

“No, fuck you! Get— get your fuckin hands off me!” Tommy growled, attempting to slip out of the man’s hold. 

“Watch that mouth, kid!” the man retorted, and Dream could make out something sharp glinting under the man’s jacket. 

Dream didn’t have any weapon on him right now, which was so very unfortunate for their situation right now. “Tommy!” he heard Tubbo yell beside him, and the man finally turned their attention to the two. He grunted, pulling Tommy in a position so that the man’s left arm was locked tightly beneath the blonde’s chin while his right hand held the blade that was in his pocket, a little too close to Tommy’s neck for Dream’s liking, “Put your hands up if you don’t want your friend dead!” he barked, and both Tubbo and Dream raised their arms begrudgingly, complying to the man’s demand. 

“What are you gonna do to him?” Dream bit out quietly. The man snorted, twirling the blade in between his fingers and he threw the knife, landing right at the wall behind them. Dream eyebrows furrowed. This man, whoever he was, is probably on par with Dream in terms of melee weapons. “I take it back. I’ll kill him first in front of you two, and then I’ll do the same with the both of you.” he grinned, and fished out another blade from his pocket, this time it was poised to aim and kill. 

Dream’s fingers involuntarily curled inwards into a fist. If he didn’t act now, Tommy would most definitely die. Tubbo glanced at him warily, too scared to speak or move. 

The man threw his blade. Dream reached forward. 

The knife directly zipped towards his palm, and Dream gripped the hilt of the weapon firmly, now directing the weapon in the man’s way. He seemed surprised, his eyebrows flying upwards and his mouth agape. 

“Release the kid,” Dream said, voice low, “you might walk away unharmed.”

“Emphasis on the ‘might’,” Tommy added, and he snapped his mouth shut once the man applied more pressure to where his throat was being held. 

“No,” the man pronounced the word slowly, his head tilted upwards in a daring manner, “fight me, pussy.”

Dream obliged, lunging forward with the blade in hand. 

The first thing he did was shove Tommy aside, and while the teen was recovering from the shock, the man had taken two more blades out from his pocket (how many knives does he even have?). He flung one at Dream, who dodged it easily, and advanced on the man. Dream aimed for a swipe, and the man tilted his head, the knife barely missing his ear. He swerved around the blonde, probably trying to look for a weak spot. Dream caught his throat, slamming him against the wall and the man grunted, arms flailing. 

Dream panted, his hand gripping the hilt of the knife as he aimed at the man, “Any last words?”

The man grinned, albeit a little maniacally, “Behind you.”

There was a symphony of “look out!” and “big D!”, and before Dream could react, the man who he had previously pinned to the wall dissipated, and the blonde turned around, teleporting just in time as the same man threw a knife in his direction, nearly hitting bullseye. 

“What the fuck?” Dream muttered to himself, appearing a few metres away. The man had quickly located him, dislodging the knife from the wall and took aim again, but Dream caught it between his fingers. His reflexes hadn’t been fast enough however, as when the man flicked another blade in his direction, he had been stuck in place, his mind blanking on what he should be doing. Reality came crashing back to him as he felt the cold end of the blade hit his skin, lightly grazing against flesh. 

“You’re just like me, kid.” the man sneered, but Dream could sense the underlying empathy in his voice, “why do we fight? Society labels us as killers. Monsters.” 

The dirty blonde teleported away, and this time landed on the man’s back. With one arm around his throat and one hand holding the weapon, he had to wait for the man to stop twisting and turning in order for him to make a killing blow. “Let me go, and we can just murder these two in cold blood and no one would know.” he smirked from below, still trying to throw Dream off. The green clad man’s grip only tightened, and the man choked, now attempting to pull the slender arms off his neck. 

“They’re my friends, you dipshit,” Dream hissed, but what scared him the most was that there was a split second where he had actually considered. He wouldn’t do that. Not as number 4, not as Dream, not as Nightmare. So where had that train of thought come from?

Finally finding an opening, Dream raised his arm, bringing it down without hesitance and he watched as red filled his vision, spraying onto his cheeks and staining the collar of his green hoodie. 

The man collapsed onto the floor. His ears were ringing. 

Dream was vaguely aware of the sirens approaching in a faraway area, probably advancing towards the little alley they were in. He stood, taking in breaths that were too loud for his liking, the adrenaline gradually wearing off. The man was dead, his neck twisted at an awkward angle as his eyes gazed blankly at the sky, the little crimson puddle under his body only seeming to get larger. 

“—ream! Dream!”

Someone was calling him. Who was it?

_Threat. Threat. Threat._

He turned around, knife in hand and ready to strike when he stopped himself, his eyes widening as the knife dropped to the ground with a clang. 

Tubbo. That was Tubbo.

“Sorry, sorry.” he muttered, still in a haze as to what had happened. He glanced around the scene, finally aware he’d have to get rid of his fingerprints that were present on the weapons. 

“You’re a mess,” Tommy commented quietly, and Dream gave a dry chuckle, picking up a knife on the floor and wiped the hilt clean with the hem of his hoodie, “I’ve been better.”

The two teens went silent as Dream picked up blade by blade, cleaning the knives and setting them in positions where it looked like some idiot had killed on accident and fled the scene. He dropped the last knife to the ground, his ears now clearly identifying the high- low pitches that could only belong to a police siren. He turned to the two, arms outstretched and only uttered a single sentence.

“We’re going home.”

———

Wilbur paced the room, a distraught look on his face as he glanced at the time again. 

“Calm down, Wil.” Techno drawled, flicking another page of his book, “They’re probably just detouring or somethin’. You know Tommy, he’s always like that.” 

“But it’s been an hour since their designated return time,” Wilbur argued, pausing to turn at Techno, who only blinked once in reply, “Dream’s a capable man. Why else would we have him looking after the two?” 

“I dunno. They could be at a club and Tommy’s finding women,” Karl quipped, earning a smack from Puffy, who mouthed something like ‘Karl they’re fucking minors’. Fundy laughed with them, but only the two girls seemed disturbed by the brunette’s idea. 

A thud caught their attention. 

Instantly, the room went silent. Dream stood in the middle, disoriented, with the two teens in tow on either side. 

“Hi.” Dream murmured, releasing his hold on the two as the purple particles that came with teleportation faded away, “why’s everyone here?”

“Wh—” Sapnap spluttered, incredulous, “‘why’s everyone here?’ Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you were an hour—” he stopped, finally noticing his friend’s appearance, “holy shit, dude. Did you get robbed or something?” 

It was probably meant as a joke, but there was no tease in his tone. Dream looked worn out, exhausted even, with his bloodied clothing and a cut on his cheek. Tommy and Tubbo were considerably fine though, the exception being the former’s attire mussed up. “No,” Dream denied, beelining to the door, “Tommy nearly got abducted. I got into a fight,” the fact that he sounded so nonchalant about the entire thing was a shock to everyone. His fingers latched onto the handle, twisting the knob to exit when Niki stopped him, “What happened?”

Dream looked miffed, “Like I said, Tommy nearly got abducted. I wasn’t paying attention to him when he was getting something for himself.” he explained, “I’m sorry okay? I had a lot on my mind.” he added as an afterthought. Niki didn’t give way though, “And what about getting into a fight?”

“You can’t expect us to be fine with our friend appearing, an hour later than promised, drenched in blood.” George continued, not letting Dream answer, “this— this is exactly how you were like after the facility blew up! ‘Oh yeah, I’m Dream, so I can appear whenever and do whatever without telling anyone!’” he mimicked in his best voice, raising his hands in the air and made the quotation gesture, “Is that it, Dream? You want us to stop fussing over you?”

“That’s not what I said—” Dream started, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the others’, one overlapping the previous as the room exploded in shouts and yells. Dream shrank back, his fingers brushing against the wood that was the door. He needed to leave. It was too much noise. _It was suffocating._

He really hadn’t meant to, but in a purple flash, he disappeared. 

The room went silent, everyone stopping mid-speech as they finally grew aware of their missing friend. 

“Great. You scared him away,” Tommy muttered, eyeing the dissolving particles. Wilbur huffed, ruffling his younger brother’s hair, “He promised to keep the both of you safe. How could he let you be abducted and be so casual about it?” 

“Wil, no.” Tubbo spoke up, his tone soft and his voice low, but everyone turned their heads to him, “The person who abducted Tommy— Dream.. Dream killed him. It’s all fine,” he assured, and continued before anyone could interject, “but that person, he could— he could control trajectory like Dream. And he can somehow.. I don’t know, create illusions?” 

Tommy nodded, affirming Tubbo’s statement, “Both of us could tell he was just as surprised,” he added, playing with the frayed edges of the bandanna tied to his neck, “I mean, I would’ve been shocked too, seeing someone having nearly the same powers as you do.” 

“You mean..” Quackity murmured, tilting his head, “that man Dream killed— could possibly be one of the failed experiments?” 

“Maybe,” Tubbo replied, eyeing Tommy, “but that man kills. Well— killed— seeing that he’s dead now. You get the point,” he sighed, “we saw on the news that he had been murdering people for the past week or so.” he gave an involuntary shudder, “I’m just glad I’m not dead.” 

Tommy laughed with him. The adults didn’t. 

“Alright, you two need to bath,” Niki attempted diverting the attention from the topic, and she scrunched up her nose mockingly, “you two stink.” 

Tubbo frowned and Tommy gave an indignant huff, but they followed her downstairs anyway, all the while telling her the things they’d done today. 

“Will Dream be fine?” Bad whispered, breaking the tension. No one dared to confirm nor deny, and once again they fell into comfortable silence. 

At least their friend isn’t a mass murderer. Anymore, at least. 

_~~Maybe they were wrong.~~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wOAH WE REACHED THE END??!!1! 
> 
> thank you so much to everyone reading this fic. i know my writing sucks (as it should) and i’m trying to improve. 
> 
> i have another fanfic in mind already but i think i’ll pace that one. i figured if i uploaded everyday i wouldn’t have time to check for grammatical errors and such. and plus— longer chapters maybe?? 
> 
> once again, thank you for reading this (albeit crappy) fic! i had fun writing it (the ending might be rushed though? idk) and i hope you enjoyed reading it too(?)


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